


Baby, Didn't We Almost Have It?

by loubearandhazza



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: American Summer AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Friends, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Back Together, Implied/Referenced Depression, Insecurity, Jealousy, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Sort Of, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-05-20 07:03:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 36,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14889846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loubearandhazza/pseuds/loubearandhazza
Summary: "I tried to hate you, but I only ended up hating myself," slips out of his mouth, voice wobbly. "I was scared and alone even with you laying beside me. I needed you in a way that no one should ever need another person. I couldn't even tell who I was when you weren't here, and I don't think it should have been like that. So I saved for an apartment, changed my number, walked away before I realized you were something I could never do without. I'm so sorry for hurting you, but-" his voice breaks- "I'm not sorry for trying to help myself."-Harry returns home for the first time in nearly four years and finds himself reconnecting with someone he never thought he would see again. Two strangers stand where a friendship used to be.





	1. YOUR EYES WILL LEAD ME STRAIGHT BACK HOME

**Author's Note:**

> \- I'm not in anyway associated with anything mentioned in this fic.  
> \- Updates will continue randomly until I can work out a schedule.  
> \- Each chapter will be titled with a song that I listened to while writing this fic.  
> \- I haven't gotten around to editing it either so I'm sorry.

"You have to leave. Now!" Harry whispers harshly as he shakes the shoulder of the person next to him.

A pair of bleary eyes blink up at him as he gathers each remnant of the previous night as quickly as possible. He pushes at the body in an effort to get them out of bed faster. The man is ushered to the small window ledge while Harry keeps a close eye on the other side of the room.

The last thing he expected last night was to start the next morning by watching a beautiful boy jump out of his bedroom window. His eyes are still following the retreating mess of chestnut hair and soft curves when the sound of approaching footsteps remind him of the reason he awoke in a rush. Soft knocks echo around the room before the figure is out of sight. With a final glance outside, he opens the door to reveal his mother's jade eyes, round cheeks, and wavy curls.

Harry silently prays that she didn't see the surprise guest leave her home. After taking a moment to search her smiling face, he internally breathes a sigh of relief to find nothing amiss. He greets her with a strained smile of his own, one that he hopes looks less guilty than he feels.

"I wanted to pop in to ask if you need anything from the market? I don't think it will take too long; I promise we can have a chat as soon as I return," his mother offers.

Harry waves off her apologetic look. She knows he was looking forward to their conversations over breakfast and relaxing evenings outdoors. He will admit he is a little disappointed to have breakfast alone this morning, but he has months to relive their old traditions. The bittersweet feeling of being in his childhood home is enough to quell his overactive mind for the time being.

He throws himself on the bed dramatically as soon as she turns to leave. He thinks there is nothing to get worked up about seeing as the morning could have been worse.

Just as the thought crosses his mind he hears his mother call out, "And, Harry dear, was that the Tomlinson boy I saw running across the yard this morning? It's no wonder you got in so late."

He grimaces at what must be going through her mind. His face is aflame from the implication.

"Well, um," Harry manages to stutter out. His throat feels as on fire as his face must look. He tries again to form words, "Look -"

"I'm not one to judge, darling. I always hoped he would learn to use the front door, but I guess that's something we'll have to work on. I just think you might be a bit old to have boys running out of your bedroom window like there's something to be ashamed of. Invite him around for dinner sometime next week, yes?" Her gentle demand was clear.

Harry was still at a loss for words. He turned his back to the door to avoid his mother's amused smirk. He drifted off thinking of how he even managed to get himself in this situation.

-

He was exhausted. His last flight was delayed so long that he was sure his family would be asleep before he got home. Even the airport looks drowsy with only a handful of people lingering in the arrival section. So much for a warm welcome, he thinks.

A few stragglers rush around him in an effort to get out of the deserted airport. He is searching for his baggage claim ticket when one of those bodies collides with his own. Harry's body hardly moves with the force of the incoming person, but the papers he was holding go flying out of his hand. He is sorting through the fallen items when he hears a dulcet voice.

"Sor- Harry?"

Harry's eyes pull up from his bag to find a familiar pair staring back at him. His eyes, bright as ever, continue to hold the color of beautiful exotic waters. Sharp cheekbones were in contrast with the delicate curve of his surprised smile. The boy looks as lovely as the last time they saw each other.

The beanie covering his head helps him look effortlessly put together. His shirt, completely torn at the neck, shows off the collarbones he used to agonize over. Harry can see a bit of loopy lettering that never had the chance to fill his dreams. Taking a full look at him, he notices an assortment of unrecognizable ink. So much has changed, but the ghost of a smile peeking out under the hint of stubble makes it feel like no time has passed at all. He still looks more confident than Harry could ever wish to be.

"Louis," he breathes out. He hates himself for the reverence he can hear in his own voice. "You are probably the last person I thought I would see here."

"Didn't expect me? In our hometown?" comes the sarcastic reply. Amusement shines in the slight upturn of his lips as much as his eyes.

Harry shrugged. Years later and he was still made to feel like a fool.

He doesn’t exactly know what to do. He's not sure if he should try to engage in meaningless pleasantries or leave like he so desperately wanted the second he got off the plane. He was expecting to spend the next few months avoiding his past as much possible. Seems like he was already failing in that. Part of him wished his old acquaintances managed to forget him, but - looking at the person in front of him - a small part of him wished they had kept in contact. He stamps down that thought as quickly as it entered his mind.

"So, you here for the weekend?" Louis questions politely.

"Summer, actually. I wanted some time home to recharge before my last term.” It was a half truth, already more than he should have been willing to share. He wanted a few relaxing weeks at home, but he was mostly looking for a reminder of how far he had come. He wanted a sign that would make running away feel less wrong. He wanted to know that he was better than the person standing in this airport four years ago.

"Sick. I'll be around so if you ever want to reminisce, just let me know."

He nodded even though he knew it was never going to happen. People always made false promises of reconnecting after seeing each other for the first time in a while. The last thing he wanted from his final summer break was to be dragged back into bad habits.

He could feel old wounds slowly reopening the longer they continued this conversation. A hint of irritation starts to move around in his head. He wanted to move on before it reached full blown annoyance. He waved around his claim ticket and gestured to the baggage area as an excuse to walk away before Louis could decide to drag on the small talk.

His suitcases were circling around the carousel alone. Harry must not have realized how long he had taken to get out of the gate. The staff were the only other people in the lobby now. He hoped the cabbies had not left him; he really wasn't in the mood to wait for someone to pick him up.

Harry grabbed his bags and took the short walk outside to find a way home. With everything that had gone wrong today, he felt extremely lucky to see one car remaining. Without thinking, he opened the back door quickly and threw his carry-on in the backseat. 

"Watch out! I'm in here," an aggravated voice called out. Harry stumbled away from the curb with how quickly he tried to get away from the cab. The wait for another way home would be easier than dealing with an irate stranger. He wanted to get out of the situation with as little confrontation as possible. He was still trying to find his footing when a figure emerges from inside the vehicle.

An irritated furrow of brows held over the same ocean blue eyes from moments ago stare back at him. Louis' expression evens out a little when he realizes who caused the disturbance. He didn't look nearly as bothered as he had been just seconds ago. The small gathering of wrinkles clears, but traces of displeasure remain.

Harry was weighing his options, if he charmed the other man enough he might be able to convince him to share a cab out of town. A little more small talk versus an aggravating wait for another ride. The thought of quickly getting in his bed made the decision simple.

"Y'know we have got to stop meeting like this," Harry says with a laugh. A couple of smiles with an interested head tilt and he will be home in no time.

"Wish it was under better circumstances to be honest." Louis frowned. "I can't find my keys, so it looks like I'll be here until I can find someone to let me in the house."

The small airport resides on the far side a town away from theirs. It was at least a thirty-minute drive to and from their homes. There was a limited number of cab drivers willing to make the trip and it didn't seem like they were planning to come back any time soon. He could try to make some calls, but he would still have to wait for someone to get to him. It was the exact situation that Harry was just trying to avoid. He was really starting to feel bad for the guy. It wouldn't hurt to be nice to him.

"You might not get an answer right away, so um, we could share?” Harry waved his hand towards the yellow car in front of him. “You can buy some time and make calls on the way home.”

He watches Louis walk to the back of the car and knock on the hood. The trunk pops open as Harry starts to feel embarrassed about his offer. He should have known the man would have wanted to spend as little time together as possible. He was just trying to be polite earlier. Harry feels like an idiot for not running in the other direction. He knows the feeling well. He spent most of his childhood offering bits of himself and was always left feeling like he gave too much away. He shifts his weight on his feet awkwardly.

"Coming?" Harry looks up to see a hint of a smirk on the other man.

Harry didn't need to be asked twice. He quickly scrambles to get his bags in the trunk of the car. Louis must have been traveling with nothing more than the backpack on his shoulders. Not for the first time, Harry finds himself wondering where he was coming from today and what he has been up to for the last few years.

A thousand questions fill his head as he climbs in the backseat of the car. He internally fights with himself to remain unaffected by thoughts of the man beside him. Louis' life was none of his concern. If luck found its way back to him, they would end the journey and never have to see each other again.

His head hits the window as soon as he is settled in the car. Louis' murmurs into the phone fill the small space. The one-sided speech sounds light even with clear frustration. The familiar background noise puts him at ease enough to fall into a peaceful sleep.

"Harry? Wake up, Rose," soft words are whispered by his side. A hand brushes away the curls beside his ear. He leans his head back on the headrest to allow light fingers access to more of his hair. He feels so content that it threatens to lull him back to sleep. He finally peeks an eye open to see the blue that filled countless dreams. "I paid the cabbie before I woke you. Just have to grab your bags."

"Do you have a place to stay?" he asks groggily.

"Tried to call 'round in the car.” Louis shrugs his shoulders. He fiddles with the straps of the bag in his lap. “No one answered. I was planning on knocking at my family's place until they let me in."

Harry didn't think that plan sounded like a good idea. He’s not sure the one he was thinking of would be any better. He is hesitant to offer up his home. If it had been a few years ago he wouldn't have had to ask, but now he is unsure of himself. A stranger stands before him. Their shared history wasn't enough to keep them tied to each other forever. He briefly wonders if the other boy feels the same.

"You can stay at mine," He's proud of himself for sounding more certain than he feels, "I doubt my mother would mind having an extra guest for the night. It would be easier than waking your poor grandmother up." He reminds himself that this was his old best friend he was talking to. Louis spent just as much time at Harry's house as his own.

"Sure? I don't want to be in the way. Your family must want you to themselves a bit."

"Just mom. I told her not to wait up," Harry rushes out.

Louis helps him grab his bags instead of replying.

Harry stands on the porch for a long time. He glances at the yard around him. So little has changed.

The moonlight shines just enough to showcase the pinks, whites, and reds of his mother's garden. He feels fortunate to have gotten home in time to see the tulips in all their glory. He cannot wait to spend afternoons tending to the beauty that sits beside their porch. The paint on the front steps is chipped from years of use. If he looks hard enough Harry is sure he could see the small spot on the banister where he and Louis carved their names. It must be his imagination when he sees Louis rub his finger across the spot. He feels so overwhelmed with emotion that he isn't sure what to do with himself.

Harry's hands are shaking when he tries to put the key into the lock. It takes him a few deep breaths and three attempts, but he finally opens the door. Uneasiness settles deep in his stomach. He walks in more tentatively than he would care to admit. Louis takes his hand after a moment of hesitation and the uneasiness starts to fade away.

He was home.

His life is laid out around him. Framed pictures from his childhood hang on the walls. The quilt his grandmother made him is folded over the sofa. His mother's favorite books sit on the shelves of the bookcase. A thousand memories fill the room. He looks at the pictures closest to him and his heart warms when he sees the faces of his grandparents staring back at him.

The only decorations in his apartment in the city were the paintings it came with. He had almost forgotten the comfort that came from being surrounded by loving memories. He spent so long trying to avoid where he came from that it made his present feel like it belonged to a different person. He wants to become a part of something again. He feels it so strongly that it makes his heart ache. Harry wants to reconnect with the world that made him.

He's so lost in his thoughts that he almost misses the soft squeeze on his hand. He had forgotten that someone was in the room with him and lets the hand go as soon as he comes back to himself. Not wanting to disturb the stillness of the house, he just nods to Louis to follow his lead. They quietly take the short trip down the hallway and only stop when they reach Harry's door.

The room looks nothing like the way he left it. The once dark walls have been painted a lighter color. There is unfamiliar bedding and curtains. The desk in his room seems to have been removed to make room for a larger bed. His favorite posters have been replaced with professional looking photographs. Harry vaguely remembers his mother telling him that she was redecorating, but he didn’t expect to not recognize the room he spent eighteen years in.

"You can use the main bath and anything else you need. I'm just going to drop stuff here and head back downstairs." Harry quickly places his bags in the closet and grabs what he needs for the night.

Louis draws attention to himself when he clears his throat. He is looking at the ground when he begins to speak, "You don't have to sleep downstairs." He rubs the back of his neck and continues to look anywhere other than Harry. "I mean, we shared a bed when we were younger and it was a lot smaller back then. No big deal."

He's not wrong. They spent every night in this room during their last summer together. He would count down the minutes until he heard soft taps on his window. The boy would unlatch it and pull himself inside with sure movements. Hours of conversation would flow between them. Secrets seemed less scary in the quiet darkness. Their dreams seemed within reach as long as they were barely heard over the beating of their hearts. Louis was always gone with the dark of night.

So much has changed since those easy nights, but nothing beats sleeping in a nice bed after a long day.

"That sounds great actually. You can go first," Harry gestures to the area of the bathroom. He quickly changes and wishes he wasn't dead on his feet so he could get the airport grime off his body before settling in for the night.

Louis shuffles by the door a couple of minutes later. He looks softer like this, but just as gorgeous. The beanie is gone and his messy hair looks good in a way most people probably couldn't pull off. An oversized tank has replaced the shirt from earlier. His biceps look larger and more defined in this top. He can't move his eyes away from them, whereas he couldn't take his eyes off his collarbones earlier. Maybe it's not too late to take the sofa, Harry thinks. _  
_

He carefully maneuvers around where the other man is idling. They realize too late that there is not enough room for the two of them in the small entryway. Standing chest to chest, they are closer than either of them expected to be. Harry is about to apologize when he looks at the blue eyes across from him and he suddenly loses his thoughts. He tries to tell himself there is no reason to feel caught off guard.

It doesn't work.

He ducks his head and tries to get out of there without further embarrassment.

"Just make yourself comfortable. I'll be back soon," he says as he takes long strides to the bathroom.

He closes his eyes against the door as soon as it shuts. He still feels like an awkward teenager every time he is around Louis. The bumbling mess he used to be has made more appearances this evening than it has in a very long time. He takes his time going through his nightly routine in hopes that he can wash away the part of himself he'd rather forget.

He feels a lot calmer when he finally returns to his room. It all goes to hell when he sees the other man has already claimed his usual spot. The small wisps of hair are the only part of him that Harry is able to see from his place in the doorway. The closer he gets the more he notices the body curled in the direction of the window he is facing. The scene reminds him so much of the boy he used to know that his body aches with the need to connect their hands and draw attention back to himself like he used to. The feeling burns through him as he lays down for the night.

He can tell that Louis is awake beside him even though he pretends he isn't. Harry’s spent enough nights with him to know every detail by heart. He thinks Louis might be waiting for him to say something, but he doesn’t know if he would be able to produce words without showing his emotions. Sadness, resentment, and anger overwhelm him.

Sleep finds them soon enough.

No big deal.


	2. YOU MOVE ON AND YOU DO THE BEST YOU CAN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- The family members are original characters so their story will be unrelated to what you know  
> \- I promise the chapters will get a little longer as the story progresses.

Harry wakes up again later in the day. His body feels heavy in a way that only happens when he has been asleep for too long. The last twenty-four hours feel more like a dream than a memory. He plans to go about his day like the rest of it never happened.

He finally crawls out of bed to get the shower he so desperately needs. The spray of water washes over him for a long time. He feels like a whole new person once the filth washes off his skin. His stomach starts to growl as he finishes getting ready for the day. Maybe getting some food will make the grogginess fade.

His mother is standing in the kitchen when he finally gets there. Harry feels a pang in his chest with how much he missed her. She passes him a plate of food and begins to bustle around the kitchen. He feels nostalgic about all the important moments that happened in this kitchen.

Their last meal together still holds a heavy weight in his heart. He knows he shouldn't have blindsided her with the news of his sudden departure. He should have been more clear on why he was leaving and not coming back. Harry never wanted to make her feel like it was something she did. He can clearly remember her confused look when he told her he wasn't planning on visiting for breaks. Sadness filled her features as he asked if she could bring holidays to him instead. She had nodded with glistening eyes before disappearing to her room until late afternoon. The dark cloud of that morning dims the other moments more than it should.

“Sorry, I didn’t get a chance to help you with the groceries,” Harry says with a sheepish smile.

She waves him off as she sets down a cup of coffee for each of them.

His mother looks older than the last time they saw each other. Worry lines have started creasing her forehead. Harry wants to make sure that she’s taking care of herself. She’d never tell, but he knows it’s been difficult for her since he moved out.

His father was so busy traveling for work that he rarely came home anymore. Harry's not even surprised that he wasn't back for his big return. For most of his teenage years, he only remembers Louis and his mother as the only other people in the house. He can’t understand why she has spent so many years putting up with someone that was constantly in and out of her life. Harry really wants to be more of a presence for her. She shouldn’t have to live a solitary life because he was too angry at the world to visit her.

They were so different in the way that they carried themselves. Confidence oozed from of every fiber of her being. Harry, on the other hand, was nothing of the sort. So many years were wasted cowering behind others and pretending that he didn’t hate himself for it. She's never let the emotional hardships turn her cold and distant. She raised him to be strong and confident in everything he did. On late nights that he’d rather forget, he always asks himself if she would be happy with who he is.

The boy that ran away when life got hard. The son that broke his mother's heart. The friend that was to scared to become something more.

“Is everything alright?” Concern laced in her voice as much as her face.

“Yeah, I’m just a little caught up in my head. It’s really not anything worth mentioning. Also, you really don’t have to do everything for me,“ Harry says with a pasted on smile. He places his hand on hers. “Not that I don’t appreciate it.”

“Don’t worry, it won’t happen very often,” she says with a laugh as she pats his hand. “Tell me about your trip.”

He groans. “I’m exhausted just remembering it. My first flight was delayed because of some problem with the gate reader so I missed the second one. Then the flight I was supposed to be on got delayed because there were thunderstorms in the area. I swear nearly everything that could do wrong did.”

“Well looks like your night perked up after that,” she says with a light smile.

Harry rolls his eyes and recounts the story of seeing Louis again. She was always so fond of him. They bonded over afternoon snacks and she always treated him like a second son. He knows Louis secretly confided in her when things were tough at home and in return she always made sure that he wasn't lost in the shuffle. It was something that Harry used to love about them. They were just as close to one another as they were to him.

He feels a deep sense of sadness when he thinks of the relationship his mother lost. It was one of the many reasons why Harry was still angry with Louis. The boy tore him apart so much that his mother had to feel the consequences.

Minutes turn to hours and the rest of the afternoon has gone by with easy conversation flowing between them. Harry watches as his mother’s face lights up when she discusses her book club. She tells him everything from her recent readings to her favorite shows on TV. She informs him of the lives of her friends and people around town she thinks he would remember. He tries to follow along even though most of it makes no sense to him. He’s happy to see that she’s enjoying life. They soon move to discussing Harry’s schooling and friends. Harry and his mother had a weekly Skype session and evening phone calls, but nothing compares to speaking over warm cups of coffee.

They later move to the front porch and each put on gardening gloves. He could tell that his mother couldn't wait to get down to business. Her passion was one of the many things he loved about her. He listens intently as she tells him about her garden. He has heard the stories thousands of times, but it never fails to warm his heart to hear such love in his mother’s voice. He feels like he doesn’t have to think too hard as long as they continue talking about everything good in their lives.

“Have you spoken to Louis about dinner next week?” Harry’s so caught off guard that he looks at his mother as if she suddenly grew another head. She just continues to prune the roses and look as if she didn’t just ask something unusual.

“Um, no. I think you got the wrong idea. It was just a misunderstanding. Nothing has changed,” he tries to make it sound casual even though he this is the conversation he's been dreading.

“A lot has changed,” She states plainly. Her mom face slips on. Her furrowed brows and tight smile makes him want to spill all his secrets.

“It was nothing. We talked about this. He got locked out of his house and had nowhere to stay for the night,” he says exasperatedly.

“That still doesn’t explain why I saw him climbing out of your window and running across the yard,” a pointed look accompanies her words.

Harry gives up on trying to explain the circumstances. He told her this morning that it was a rash decision that he made to avoid talks like this one. This conversation would have gone much differently if this had been four years ago. If she had asked him about this back then he might have shared all of his greatest secrets. Louis came over because it felt special to have time set aside for one another. Harry had once been terrified that Louis would decide that he wasn't worth the effort anymore. The mornings he woke up alone made him worry that his fears had come true. He had been a mess of feelings that he couldn't sort out. He doesn’t know what else to say now.

“I’m going to start on dinner. Is there anything you need?” Harry needed to effectively end this conversation. He wishes his annoyance was enough to deter his mother from pressuring him into another conversation about Louis. When no other words follow, Harry decides to go wash up before starting on their dinner. He finally takes a moment to think about the previous night. The gorgeous boy and the insecurities that followed.

Louis was the golden boy. People hung on his every word. Confidence poured out of his every being. Harry remembers always fumbling around him, ten steps behind. It wasn’t something that anyone talked about, but they all knew the truth. Louis was always way out of his league and Harry refused to ever feel that way again. He made a promise to himself a long time ago that he would not waste time on anything that wasn’t in his best interest.

He works on autopilot. Thoughts swirl in his head as he goes about making dinner. Once it’s placed in the oven, he goes outside to tell his mother that dinner is almost ready. Two figures can be seen from his spot in the doorway. For some reason, he is not exactly surprised by what he finds.

Louis and his mother are laughing together by the flowers. Her arms are moving animatedly as Louis' hand comes up to cover his smile. They both look otherworldly in the early evening sunset. A golden pink halo surrounds them. They look as if they are wrapped in their own bubble of perfection. They continue to speak with wide hand gestures and unintelligible words between giggles.

It takes a few moments for them to notice him. When they do, Louis calls him over with a wave of his hand. He looks like he was just coming from the gym. Another wide arm tank and shorts cover his body. A light sheen of sweat makes his skin glisten in all the right places. Harry thinks there must be some rule about looking that indecent in public. He tries not to look too long.

“We were just talking about how you saved me last night. I didn’t even get a chance to properly thank you,” Louis says sweetly.

“It’s really not a big deal. Did you get in alright?” He replies in a polite tone well aware of the fact that they had an audience.

“Iz let me in this morning. Luckily she had my keys in her bag. Forgot I gave them to her when I left,” Louis huffs out a laugh. Harry tries not to feel too fond over how happily annoyed Louis looks with himself.

“Izzy! I haven’t seen her in so long," Harry's heart swells with the mention of Louis' younger sister, "I don't think she had even gotten into high school when I last saw her. She's got to be what? Sixteen now?” He really can’t believe how fast time has moved. He sometimes forgets that life continues here even when he's not.

There's a small ache in his heart when he thinks of not seeing Izzy in so long. She was like a little sister to him. He and Louis would get roped into playing tea parties or helping her practice for dance recitals. As she got older, he and Louis were in charge of chaperoning her social outings. His favorite nights were the ones where she would excitedly tell the boys about her school day as they settled in for a movie night. He would braid her hair while Louis painted her nails. It was like a switch was flipped at the mention of her name and he was suddenly overcome by how much he missed her.

Somewhere behind him someone clears their throat pointedly.

He looks over his shoulder to see his mom looking at him with a fond smile. She waves her hands around as when she realizes she is being watched, “Don’t mind me."

"I was, um, just finishing up dinner if you would like to join us?" Harry asks Louis nervously. He feels a slight nudge of approval in his side.

A feminine voice jumps in to add, "You are more than welcome to stay tonight or we could set something up for next week?”

“I would love to. I’m free next weekend, if that works for you? I would love to stay tonight, but I promised someone a night in,” he says apologetically.

He can hear the other two making more concrete plans. Harry is annoyed that no one is bothering to ask him what he thinks. Louis always did have a bad habit of making plans without him. It’s like he has no consideration for anyone else. Harry wants to get this over with as painlessly as possible. He zones back into the conversation when he hears one of them mention his name.

“I’m going to wash up a bit before finishing dinner. It should be done by now. It was lovely to see you, dear,” with that the woman was scurrying up the steps and into the house.

Harry and Louis are left alone for the first time since that morning. They both awkwardly stare at each other before one of them finally breaks the silence, “So your mom tells me I'm your latest conquest and it's about time I use your front door.”

Harry feels like he was doused in ice water. He’s shocked to hear the statement and irritated with the way it comes out of his mouth. He makes it seem like that is the most amusing thing he’s heard in his life. Harry is a catch and damn the person that makes him feel otherwise.

"As if you'd be so lucky," Harry mutters.

“Been saying good things about me, have you?” Louis still looks endlessly amused. He is really starting to get under Harry’s skin. Does he really think so lowly of him? A ringtone suddenly chimes between them. Louis pulls out his phone and looks at the screen. “Shit, I really have to go. Maybe we can meet for coffee or something,” he doesn’t even wait for a reply before he’s off and running again.

What the hell just happened? The conversation was completely one sided. He wasn’t even able to show how angry he was truly feeling. Harry was glad he changed his number years ago because he was going to avoid that offer at all costs. He finally takes his annoyance back inside the house. He marches across the home and to his room. As he’s closing the door, his phone pings with a new notification.

_Sorry, I forgot to tell you your mom gave me your number. Hope you don't mind. I’m free Tuesday afternoon if you want to meet at our old spot at threeish._


	3. OUT OF ALL OF THE PLACES IN THIS LITTLE TOWN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I just wanted to issue a quick warning about talk of parent death. It's not graphic but definitely shouldn't take chances if this is something that affects you. It begins with "Harry is suddenly reminded..." I tried to keep it brief so just skip over that paragraph.

Harry finds himself walking down a familiar pathway days later. A town that had once only housed a small bakery and a few mom-and-pop shops is now bustling with activity. Large store chains have moved in to replaced the little shops he knew by heart. He is thrown by how different the area looks. He spares a moment of sorrow for the place he once knew.

Harry soon finds himself at a storefront he has seen hundreds of times before. The same gold letters paint the door in curly script with bells that jingle every time the door opens. He’s happy to see that one thing has remained a constant.The bakery is still covered in the same pale blue walls, mismatched chairs, and pictures of loyal customers. He always adored how out of place everything looked. It feels like coming home again.

He remembers long afternoons huddled over the table doing homework, weekend mornings with sweet treats and lots of laughter. In each of those memories, Harry was always accompanied by the same blue eyed boy. Off in their own world, they were given a few hours of bliss after a long day at school. It was one of the most memorable pieces of his childhood.

Harry walks over to the worn beige booth tucked into the farthest corner of the room. Looking back at him is a shot of this very spot with two smiling teenagers. Their happiness radiates off the paper and they’re not even looking at the camera. Crinkles gather around one boy's eyes as he throws his head back in a laugh. The other looks delighted to have caused such unbridled joy. Their hands lay linked between them like they might lose the moment without each other. He feels a stab of resentment for their exuberance.

“We were really happy, weren’t we?”

He doesn’t need to turn around to know the owner of the voice. The silvery quality and wistfulness would have been enough of an indication, even if a younger version of him wasn’t captured in the frame.

“We were also incredibly young,” Harry says feigning indifference.

He doesn’t even know how he ended up here. Before receiving the text, he was planning on avoiding the other man all together. Unfortunately, curiosity got the better of him. He wanted to learn more about who Louis had become, maybe he had more of a reason to hate him now. He didn’t expect to get assaulted by memories of what used to be their special place.

“That doesn’t make the feelings any less valid,” he speaks surely. Harry can feel a hand lightly graze his arm. Goose bumps rise in its place. It’s only because of where they are standing, he tells himself. He takes another small step back.

“I just got here, so I haven't gotten a chance to see what they have. Do you know what you want?” Harry avoids letting his eyes roam by staring up at the menu. He’s seen it enough times that he has every combination memorized, but it serves as a good distraction from Louis’ attention. He’s only at the counter for a short time before he places his order. He looks over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow, silently asking for Louis to tell the cashier what he wants.

“The usual. Add it to my bill, please.” Harry is surprised by how short Louis is with her. He usually spends time charming cashiers or giving them the slightest bit of attention at least. The simple responses are usually reserved for people he knows well. It used to be an annoyingly endearing quality. Harry always knew he had a bit of a superiority complex, but he has never seen him treat a member of any staff in such an apathetic way. Maybe Harry was right in not wanting to come here.

“You know Sara is never going to go for that,” he says with a hint of annoyance.

“Go for what?” Louis questions in confusion.

Harry rolls his eyes as he walks to their seats and leaves Louis to grab their things.

Sara, a lovely older woman, has owned the shop longer than Harry’s even been alive. She was kind and forgiving of people a bit too loud or a tad too messy. She always had a soft spot for the two of them, but she also taught them to respect the place. Louis has been coming here as long as Harry has and they always lived by the same rules. Louis shouldn’t be taking advantage of a sweet woman’s generosity just to act like he owns the place.

“The tab thing? I can assure you that she won’t mind,” he says with a laugh. Harry feels like he's missing something.

“You still shouldn’t take advantage. You know she hates it,” Harry chastises.

“Your mom didn’t tell you?” He giggles again. It's distracting, but does nothing to stop Harry from feeling like he’s being left out of the joke. It just won’t do. He didn’t come here to feel like one of the kids left alone on the playground. Louis must see his anger because he quickly continues, “Sara’s gone on an extended vacation. She has freedom to do all the things she didn’t have a chance to do before now that there's a new owner.”

Harry looks around. He never would have known someone else was running the shop. It looks exactly how he remembers it. A tinge of sadness fills him when he thinks of this place being run by someone else. He also fills with worry at its future, “They’re not going to close, are they?”

Louis rests his hand on Harry's to ease his mind, “Of course not. It’s been about six months since the title changed hands. Rent went up on the building and Sara couldn't afford it anymore. Some companies tried to take it out from under her, but she held out until the right buyer came along. Too many people were coming in to change things so part of the agreement is that everything stays exactly the same. Well, mostly the same. From what I heard, they offered quite a bit of compensation for her to tear it down. I'm glad she looked a bit closer to home for help.”

“How do you know about all of this?”

Louis shrugs as he continues to tear at the edges of the coffee sleeve. He speaks again, “Everyone knew, really. Surprised your mom didn’t let it slip.”

“I, um –" Harry clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably, “- I asked her not to really mention anything about this town unless I asked or it concerned her specifically. It just seemed easier that way, I guess.” He really didn’t want reminders of how he grew up. He had a new life and didn’t need to be dragged down by everything that filled his old one.

He thinks about explaining some of this to Louis, but the pitying look he is receiving makes him stop short. He uses this to remind himself of why that they don't really share that part of themselves anymore.

Louis must sense his discomfort because he changes the subject after a moment. He asks Harry about his trip back home and soon they are filling each other in on the travel disasters they had to endure the day they first saw each other again. Harry learns that Louis was traveling home from a work trip. He sounds so happy to talk about his travels that it slips his mind to ask what he was even doing for work. They move on to other topics like Izzy and his mother. They talk about basic bits of their lives that were missed. The more minutes that pass, the more comfortable Harry gets in Louis’ presence.

Soon laughter is shared between them. It feels like Harry can breathe for the first time in years. He knew a sense of comfort was removed from his life, but he didn’t know where it went. Turns out, it was hidden somewhere in the streets he used to walk as a child.

“So about dinner, I mean, I'm not sure if you were serious about not wanting me around your mother or if that morning was a one time thing. I feel like I might have overstepped the other day by accepting without asking you. I can cancel, tell her that I'm busy or leave it ambiguous or –" Louis is rambling and a few of the words start to blur together. Harry puts his hand over the other man's to get him to slow down. Louis suddenly looks small and nervous. His leg is bouncing and his free hand is tapping an unknown rhythm on the table.

“I don't need you to do that. I think we can be civil for one night." Louis looks like he’s about to interrupt, so Harry bulldozes on, "Besides, I already explained the whole sneaking out situation. I just didn't have a better explanation for you staying over, that's all. She assumed that I had something to hide because you were running across the lawn first thing in the morning -"

"It's not like it was the first time,” Harry mutters to himself at the end.

“So it's common for you to have random boys running across your yard?" A raised eyebrow accompanies Louis' words. Harry must have said the last part louder than he intended.

"Really? Obviously it has only ever been you," he bites out, 

Harry winces as the words leave his mouth. He takes a calming breath to keep himself in check. His frustration is slowly creeping back. He rubs at his forehead in irritation.

Louis slowly removes Harry's arm from his face and leans in to catch his eyes. His next words are spoken slowly, "Was just trying to lighten the mood. I don’t think poorly of you in any way, so I think the dinner would be nice. I know being back must be confusing for you. Just want to make it easier, I guess.”

Harry can feel his face heating up. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Moments like this remind him of the million reasons why he loved the boy for so long, but he refuses to drag himself back into the mess that is Louis' orbit. He doesn't think he will be emotionally ready to open himself up to something like that again. They’re going to get this over with as little entanglements as possible.

The ringing of a phone helps release the tension that built in his body. Louis digs his cell out of his pocket and grimaces. He starts to clean up his mess as he speaks, “I have a meeting with Izzy's school. Hate to run, but I’ll text you.”

“You're going to the meeting? I thought that was something your grandmother did?”

Louis looks as confused as Harry feels. He takes a seat back on his side of the booth as an unreadable look crosses his face. Harry thinks he might have said the wrong thing, but he doesn’t know what it was.

Louis takes a deep breath before he speaks, “I’ve taken my sister in. Nan has gotten too old to care for a teenager, so Iz stays will our grandmother if I absolutely have to travel. All other times she lives with me." Louis gives him a second to process the information. "I'd really love to fill you in more, but I really can't be late.”

For a second time that afternoon, Harry is at a loss for words. It doesn’t matter because Louis is running off before he can get a word out. Harry feels so upset with himself that he didn’t even know about such a big event. He is still irreparably angry with Louis, but that wasn’t his sister’s fault. He should have stayed in touch with her. She shouldn’t have had to change her life completely without the help of the closest thing to family she had.

A broken heart and a few thousand miles doesn't change the fact that he should have continued to look out for her. Louis and Harry were good cop, bad cop. One was supposed to help her learn from her mistakes - to go about the world better - while the other dried her tears and reminded her that everything would be better in the light of day.They had ever evolving roles in each other's lives. It was a dynamic they navigated since Louis' parents passed. One that never should have become so broken.

They were family, always.

 

-

 

That evening Harry is sitting on the porch letting the light breeze cool his skin. He looks out to see the stars showcasing the emptiness of the neighborhood by illuminating the yard. He came outside to find an escape. Unfortunately, the still of the night, low hum of the radio, and a glass of wine do little to quiet the thoughts swirling in his head. He never thought that meeting with Louis would leave him so out of balance. He still feels the pain from all those years ago, but for the first time he is feeling a hint of regret leaving everything behind.

Thoughts of Louis and snapshots of a life they shared together keep flashing in his mind. Harry at eight years old begging his mom to take him to meet the bright bubble of energy he had seen ride his bike while movers unloaded the van. Louis inviting Harry to meet his baby sister. Harry showing Louis how to tend to the garden. Summer vacations to visit Louis' grandmother, afternoon teas with their mothers, and weekend trips with their fathers. Louis at Harry's baseball tournaments. Harry at Louis' soccer games. Harry and Louis at Izzy's first dance recital.

Looking back, Harry thinks they should have tried harder to separate themselves from each other. They should have realized they didn't need another half to feel whole; they may have been able to save everyone from heartache.

Their lives were intertwined from the first day they met. Harry doesn't remember ever wanting anything different. They made up parts of each other. Harry was shy while Louis was the life of the party. In private, however, Harry was able to let loose while Louis centered himself. Harry guarded his heart while Louis was an open book. Louis radiated love and light while Harry's love shined in a much softer way. They were the balance each needed to be who they were. It was never a thing anyone talked about, but it was easy to see.

They took the good with the bad. Harry remembers running to Louis' house the night he overheard his mother begging his father to stay home for just one more night. He couldn't understand why someone would choose their job over people they claimed to love. He felt lost. He muffled his tears into the other boy's shoulder. He thinks if he tries hard enough he could still hear the sweet voice promising he would never leave. That was the first night they stayed up long past their bedtime to talk about the future they wanted together.

Harry is suddenly reminded of an even more painful memory. It happened the spring just after Louis turned sixteen. Louis and his family were supposed to be attending a benefit concert the next town over, but they begged their parents to let him stay with Harry instead. Most of the evening leading up to them falling asleep is still a blur. Harry remembers waking up to Louis shaking his shoulder with a worried expression filling his features. Louis hurriedly telling him that someone was knocking on the front door. His mother's soft footsteps echoed across the home and Louis' were not far after.

Harry still doesn't understand how Louis could have known before it was ever announced. Maybe it was the flashing lights of a state police car or an uneasiness in his bones. Harry thinks he must have felt something too because he was soon running from the room to catch up with the other boy. Harry still doesn't know the words that were exchanged, but he knew their meaning. He was too busy watching the look that crossed Louis' face to think of anything else. The boy was void of emotion as though it was incapable of processing what he was feeling.

Harry remembers hugging him from the side and trying to offer a moment of comfort even as his heart shattered. It was a position that they held all the way to the hospital. He doesn't think either of them let go the whole night even as Louis' grandmother showed up with a small Izzy in tow. The flashing lights, hospital waiting room, and overwhelming feeling of sorrow are as fresh in his mind as they had been that night.

The first night may have been clear, but the next few weeks Harry felt like he was living under a thick fog. Most other memories of that time were hazy at best. The only thing he knows is that they were together and that helped them get through the day.

Harry thinks back to the weeks leading up to his departure. He knows there were a million things that he could have done differently. Louis was still blissfully unaware of everything that was to come and his mother didn't know the full extent of his plan. The last time he saw Izzy she was just starting to find herself again. They were finally beginning to find a sense of normalcy after the difficult few years they had experienced.

Harry remembers watching Louis and his sister climb out of the deep pit of despair they had found themselves in after the death of their parents. Now that he's older, Harry can't imagine how difficult it must have been for Louis' grandmother to raise a teenager and young girl while experiencing unimaginable loss. Harry knows that Louis gets his strength from the strong women he was raised by.

Harry and his mom tried their best to help the family recover, but there is never enough that can be done to help someone through their grief. Not long after that night, Izzy and Louis split their time between Harry's home and their own. Louis' grandmother did everything in her power to ensure that the Tomlinsons had a good life. She moved in to the house her daughter shared with her family and took care of the kids in the best way she knew how.

Harry thinks there must have been days that were just too hard for her to handle. He once overheard his mother offer to take them on surprise trips to give her a few moments of peace. Harry wonders if it got easier as Izzy got older. He assumes that it couldn't have been that much better seeing as Izzy is with Louis now. Harry hopes they're doing well because he doesn't know if he would ever forgive himself if he wasn't around during their struggle.

He already feels guilty that he wasn't there for Izzy when she was uprooted for the third time in her young life. He might not have made a difference, but an understanding ear and a nice distraction could have been helpful sometimes. Harry hopes they have been able to make it work for Izzy's sake.

Louis was always a great big brother, but it must be hard to play guardian too. Harry feels a pang in his chest knowing Louis has had to take on so much responsibility at such a young age. Harry still feels tendrils of resentment, but he only wishes for the best for Louis. He hopes the man finds time and willpower to do all the things he always dreamed of for himself. Louis spent so long burning bright that Harry hopes that he doesn't burn out.

He's still lost in his thoughts when he sees his mother walking down the street. She's got a light smile on her flushed face. Her unruly waves flow around her shoulders. She looks just on the right side of tipsy. Harry gets up from his spot to give her a hand up the steps. He's not surprised in the slightest when she takes a seat next to him.

"I'd offer you a glass of wine, but it looks as though you've already had more than your fair share."

"I'm more happy than tipsy. I had a lovely night with friends and was fortunate enough to come home to my favorite son," his mother says. Happiness is radiating out of every fiber of her being. She is still wearing a light smile when she looks out at the night laying before them.

"Unless you had a secret baby, I'm your only son," Harry states with a roll of his eyes. He gives her a gentle pat on the shoulder before he gets up to get her a glass of water from the kitchen.

"You never know!" She calls out to him.

She nods at him gratefully when he returns. The two sit in comfortable silence while the radio begins to play a new song.

_'Cause we were just kids when we fell in love_  
_Not knowing what it was_  
_I will not give you up this time_

He hears the voice singing about love and his heart feels like it has fallen to his stomach. He stares off into the distance as he lets his head rest in his arms. He can feel his mother's hand rubbing on his back soothingly. He was already feeling emotionally raw and this is like a final punch to the gut. His breathing has gotten shallow. His hands begin to tremble.

_We are still kids, but we're so in love_  
_Fighting against all odds_  
_I know we'll be alright this time_

That is the last bit that Harry is willing to hear. _Goodness, he feels like such cliche._ With shaking hands he turns off the radio sitting beside him. He has heard the song a million times before, but it suddenly feels too personal. The abrupt silence is deafening. Harry uses the time to calm himself and hopes that his little moment of panic goes unnoticed.

He should have known he wouldn't get that lucky. He can see the concern overshadowing his mother's features. She leans against his side as she begins speaking, "Is there something on your mind, my dear?"

Harry has so much to say, but he doesn't know where to start. He tries anyway, "I had coffee with Louis today."

"Was it nice?" She must already know the answer. He is certain that she wouldn't look this concerned if she didn't.

"Why didn't you tell me he was taking care of Izzy?" he asks.

A drawn out moment of silence follows his question. Harry is unable to read his mother's expression when he finally risks another look at her. She pulls away from him before speaking again, "You made it rather clear that Louis was not a topic of discussion. I just don't know what you want me to say."

Harry can't fault her for that. He thinks he wouldn't know where to begin either. He wasn't sure if they would even be having this conversation if it had been a few hours earlier. The heavy feeling in his heart and large supply of wine has given him a loose tongue. He wants to have this conversation before his brain decides to rebuild the walls around his heart higher than ever.

"Can you start from the beginning?"

"I think this may be a conversation that you need to have with him," her voice sounds closed off in a way that Harry had never heard directed at him.

"I'm asking _you_ for a reason. I don't know if I will ever be in a position to ask him the intimate details of his life." It's true in a away that pains him to admit. He knows he doesn't have the right to ask of the other man. He gave that up when he moved across the country without so much as a goodbye.

It was still difficult to wrap his head around the idea that Harry is separate from Louis for once in his life. Their lives had always been entangled to the point that most people didn't know where one ended and the other began. He is fully aware of the fact that he is trying to have his cake and eat it too. It does nothing to stop him from wanting to have have at least a small piece of the person that he once knew better than he knew himself. It was foolish to think that distance would extinguish the need to be one unit.

"I thought you were on good terms again. You looked -" Harry cuts her off with a shake of his head.

"Don't change the subject, _please_ ," Harry says quietly.

"Maybe we should have this conversation under different circumstances. There's more to it than him. It has been hard on me too. It's only fair to give us time," she sounds resigned. Harry realizes this conversation might be as difficult for her as it is for him.

He suddenly feels incredibly selfish for not realizing how much this situation affects her. The only thing he can think to do is to let this conversation go. He rises from the steps and offers his mother a hand. They silently pack up their belongings and go their separate ways once in the house. Harry takes the glasses into the kitchen and quickly cleans them up. He slowly makes work of locking the doors and turning the lights off.

Harry finds himself in bed feeling emotionally drained. He continues replaying the day in his head with different outcomes until sleep finally pulls him under.


	4. I WOULD BE LYING IF I SAID THAT I COULD LIVE THIS LIFE WITHOUT YOU

Harry has been standing in front of the mirror for much longer than he would ever admit aloud. Clothes have been discarded in his search for something appropriate to wear. He is thankful to himself for hanging everything in the closet rather than letting it wrinkle in suitcases. Nightly dinners usually consisted of whatever clothing he had put on for the day, but a nagging feeling made him want to dress up a bit.  He takes the time to smooth out his clothing and make sure his hair is in place before leaving his room. 

The morning after their talk on the porch, Harry and his mother awkwardly shuffled around each other until neither could stand it any longer. They offered quick apologies and promises of explaining themselves more at a later date. The topic was avoided with the exception of his mother giving him the chance to get out of their Saturday dinner. With guilt swirling in his belly, Harry declined her offer. He sincerely hopes that one meal would remove the awkward air surrounding them. He still isn't sure if dinner with his mother and Louis is a good idea, but he is willing to try for his mother's sake.

"Smells amazing," Harry says as he enters the kitchen. In a futile attempt to put him at ease, he had been instructed to avoid the kitchen at all costs while his mother took care of the evening. He thinks she might be as nervous as he is for the night to go well.

"Made your favorites," she says distractedly. Harry's surprised she heard him with how attentively she was stirring whatever was concealed in the large red pot. 

"That sounds great. Would you like me to set the table?" Harry asks.

"Please. Louis should be here any minute." The woman looks up at him with a grateful smile. He returns it easily, thankful for all that she has done for the night to go well.

Harry goes about setting the table until he hears a few timid knocks on the door. The butterflies taking flight in his stomach tempt him in to calling the whole thing off. Harry can see his mother move towards the front of the house. He unhurriedly finishes his task before following behind her.

Louis is wrapped in a tight embrace when he reaches the entryway. It looks like his mother may be whispering something to the man in her arms. He hears a melodic giggle as he watches the two separate. Harry is fiddling with the hem of his shirt and dragging his foot across the floor when the attention shifts towards him. Apprehension flows in his veins because he is unsure of how to greet their guest. 

"Um, hey," Harry settles with, adding an odd wave at the end.

Louis returns his wave with a radiant smile. He looks just as handsome as every other time they have seen each other. He is outfitted in skin tight black jeans and a short sleeve Henley that brings out the color of his eyes. Not to be shown up, Harry silently pats himself on the back for making an effort in preparation for the night.

Harry's mother ushers them to the living room with a pleasant, "Go on and have a seat. Dinner should be ready in a bit."

Harry claims a spot on the small chair while his mother and Louis sit on either side of the sofa across from him. Both look comfortable in their surroundings compared to the obvious nerves that spill out of him. Louis looks relaxed as he listens to the woman providing information about the new flowers she will be planting in the fall. He must be well versed in what she is saying because he doesn't bat an eye as she goes into more detail. He even offers advice when she confesses to being unsure of where to put the new Marigolds.

They soon shift to discussing upcoming events at Izzy's school. Louis is excitedly talking about the current project his sister is working on. Pride shines in his eyes as much as his voice with each new word. His hand movements become more pronounced and his voice slightly rises the deeper into the story he gets. Harry is content to listen and watch as they happily chat with one another.

It isn't until the timer on the oven rings that he realizes how much time has gone by. He sees his mother rise to check on their meal and it suddenly hits Harry that he will be left to speak with Louis alone. Some of his comfort starts to fade.

"So, where is Izzy tonight?" Harry asks just to fill the silence.

"She decided to visit Nan. She, uh, wasn't exactly up for the company," Louis completes the sentence slowly.

"Must have been a rough day then. I would have loved to catch up with her," he states sincerely.

Louis' demeanor becomes shifty, but he tries to hide it. He rubs his hands on his pant legs and readjusts his position a couple of times."Yeah, uh, I'll have a talk with her," he clears his throat before speaking again, "Not sure I can promise anything, if I'm honest."

Harry looks at him strangely. Dinners were fairly common before he left, but it must have been presumptuous for him to think they would all be together. He assumed Louis would have attempted to persuade Iz to have one dinner for old times' sake. He tries not to take it to heart because he is aware of the fact that most teenagers run hot and cold.

"No pressure. It was just a thought," he says with a shrug in an act of false nonchalance.

Louis gives a slight upturn of his top lip and finally settles.

He changes the subject by telling Harry of how much she has changed in four years. Louis talks about her newfound interest in art, drawing new interpretations of characters specifically. Harry remembers her love of graphic novels and he thinks it only seems fitting that she tries her hand at drawing too. He mentions this and is informed of Izzy's dream to become an illustrator. He tells Harry about the tutors he hired to give her one on one instructions. Louis leans in as though sharing a secret when he mentions he has been looking up programs he can help her apply to in the future.

Harry can see adoration in the boy's eyes and it fills him with a weird sort of pride. He listens with rapt attention when Louis talks about her never ending energy, love of arguing, and strong moral compass. Louis even playfully complains about her brash personality. The more he speaks the more Harry wants to know more.

"Goodness, she sounds exactly like you." Louis raises an eyebrow at him and crosses his arms defensively. "Don't fool yourself in to thinking otherwise."

"'m sure you're wrong," Louis says exasperatedly.

"No, no, no. Listen, you gave everyone else hell if they even thought to correct you on _anything_. I have never met a more stubborn person in my life. Do you remember the time you insisted the tooth fairy should save her money for people that need it more?" Harry can see Louis' look of betrayal so he raises his hand to stop him before he can interrupt. "Let me finish!" He says delightedly.

"You made me stay awake with you and would get so angry if I dozed off for even a second. You were so indignant when you thought she forgot about you, _even_ _though_ the whole point was that you didn't need it!" Harry is in a fit of giggles by the time he finishes his story. Louis stares for a long time before joining him, much to his chagrin.

The tooth fairy story has always been a personal favorite of Harry's because it never failed to showcase Louis' disgruntled look as much as his thoughtful nature. The morning after the incident, Louis marched into his parent's room and recounted the whole night. The adults had to take the two kids aside to tell them the truth because it looked like Louis' temper tantrum had no end in sight. One enlightening conversation - and a phone call to Harry's mother - later, it was agreed that they could donate their money saved. It might not have mattered, but Harry thinks Baby Louis' attempt to make a difference is the most important part of him.

Someone clears their throat and forces both boys to pull themselves together. Harry's mother is leaning against the wall with two wine glasses in her hands. He can see the fond look in her eyes even as she stands across the room. He can feel himself blushing as he avoids looking in her direction. A short glance at Louis reveals that he seems to be doing the same.

"Dinner is ready," she says.

Harry makes a gesture to show that he is trailing behind Louis. They sit on either side of the table with his mother taking a seat at the head of it. Harry thinks the night might be alright as long as they steer conversations towards lighter topics. Most of his apprehension has cleared in the short time he was speaking with Louis in the main room.

A delicious scent surrounds the room and their food looks just as incredible laid out on serving trays between the three of them. It looks like his mother brought out the best of everything. They easily make work of serving and settling in for dinner.

"I almost forgot-" Harry's mother walks out of the room and comes back with a new glass of wine in her hands - "the bottle of wine I picked up for you."

Harry was going to remind her that he already has a glass of his favorite when he suddenly realizes that she wasn't speaking to him. The glass is handed to the person sitting across from him. Harry is stunned. He thinks back on the whole night and the pieces start to come together.

The man was a year below legal drinking age when they last had dinner together, so there was no way his mother would know the specific type of wine Louis drank. He had never spoken to the blue eyed boy to finalize their plans and he somehow knew the perfect time to arrive. The conversation about the garden that he was struggling to follow. They move around each over in well practiced motions. The comfort Louis had in the house even after all these years. 

He isn't sure how he didn't notice sooner. He feels like an idiot because it never occurred to him that their weekly tradition would continue.

He shouldn't be so surprised. The two always had a bond of their own. The woman was the one to take in Louis and Izzy while they figured out how to live without their parents. She was their second emergency contact, gave a shoulder to lean on when times were hard, and made sure someone was at all of their events. Harry told his mother a long time ago that Louis was always going to be a part of himself he just never realized that he made Louis a part of her too.

His mother still treats Louis like one of her own, discussing bits of their lives that anyone close to them would know. Louis didn't need to be reminded of small pieces of information because he was there for it all. Louis knew her friends and hobbies better than Harry did. He feels like an outsider in his own home. Harry is the one having formal dinner for the first time in so long. They were accommodating him. _He is the guest._

Bitterness sticks deep in his bones and his eyes begin to get misty. The food is now tasteless as he struggles to swallow around the ball in his throat. His jaw clenches as he argues with himself to not make a scene. He made a vow to himself that he could make it through the night without any incidents. There was one question he couldn't let slip from his mind.

"How often do you see each other?"

Louis looks hesitant to answer so his mother is the one that speaks, "We try to have dinner at least once a month if our schedules allow." Her hand reaches out to touch his arm. She is watching him like he would break if she said the wrong thing. Internally, he feels it's not a far off assumption. He tries to politely shrug her off. He knows he's being melodramatic, but he can't stop now.

"That sounds nice. Does Izzy visit too?" He tries to keep his tone light. Nothing in the expression of the man makes him think Louis is clued in to how Harry is feeling. A slight weight is taken off his shoulders at that realization.

"She normally comes with me, actually," Louis answers with eyes that never land on Harry's.

Harry thinks he may be the reason Izzy is not here. It would explain Louis' odd shiftiness earlier and his weird behavior now. Louis might be trying to protect her from him. He wouldn't be surprised. Louis has always been fiercely loyal and slightly overprotective. Harry was typically the one Louis stood beside. He never thought he would be on the receiving end of a situation Louis thinks is bad for those he loves.

He is hurt that there is even a possibility of Louis keeping him outside of his bubble of affection. He understands the reasoning, but it does nothing to lessen the sting. Harry never wanted casualties in the war inside inside of himself. Louis was the only one he was expecting to lose.

"That sounds nice. I'm glad you keep this old one company," Harry says in false normalcy with a nod in his mother's direction for the last part. He receives a playful swat to the arm in retaliation.

The rest of the meal continues uneventfully after that. When it comes time to clean up, Harry's mom offers Louis a hug and a promise of future plans before pushing the two boys out the dining room.

"So, I wanted to ask you something," Louis says. He turns and looks at Harry before speaking again, "I'm going to meet up with some friends at Murph's if you want to join me?"

A little dive bar is the only spot of excitement in the sleepy little town. The owner, Murphy, was known for his love and involvement in the community. Harry was certain the man knew everyone in town because he made it a point to get to know everyone he came across. The owner's knowledge of the townspeople and ability to spot a fake ID a mile away made it impossible for those underage to scam drinks. A person's first drop of alcohol at Murphy's is a right of passage for those that grew up there, one that Harry has yet to experience.

Harry doesn't know if he wants to spend anymore time with Louis than he already has, but the night went well enough and a small part of him would love to have this night with his former best friend. The hopeful gleam in Louis' eye makes the decision for him. He is unable to turn him down with a look like that.

"Sure, I'll just grab my wallet and let mom know I'm heading out." He quickly walks back to the kitchen and informs her of the slight change in plans. His mother nods her head approvingly and tells him to have a good night. Harry expects to feel instant regret at accepting the offer, but he is pleasantly surprised to find none.

-

The short walk is full of comfortable chatter. The stroll under the stars was much more pleasant while listening to the sweet voice beside him. As they come upon the street, it is clear that the noise exclusively comes from the patrons of one building. A single store still has lights shining from the windows though the street is littered with small shops. It looks exactly as you would expect from a small town bar.

The outside is a rustic brick building with the name painted above the door. Nothing would give away what lies inside like it was a town secret. Harry follows behind Louis as they enter what was once the only place in the whole town Harry has never been. Louis waves to the older man behind the counter as he makes his way to a high top table in the back. The man nods in acknowledgement and begins uncapping the bottles in front of him.

"Told the boys when we left. They should be here soon," Louis says, "Do you have a drink preference?" Louis waits long enough to see Harry shake his head before walking to the bar. The drink Murphy was working on must have been for Louis because he gets served as soon as he walks to the counter.

Harry catches sight of the two engaged in conversation as he slyly surveys the room. Local sports memorabilia, newspaper clippings, and pictures take up space on the walls. He is surprised to find the little room nearly packed with people. An older crowd of what Harry assumes are regulars are seated at the bar speaking with Murphy and Louis. A group of kids he graduated with are sitting in the opposite corner and a number of people he vaguely recognizes are scattered across the room. Murphy seems to know every individual that walks across the threshold. The man nods to each visitor while he pours drinks and hands out bottles.

On his way back, Louis takes time to offer polite hellos to people he must know. He has probably spoken to most of the room by the time he reaches their table with a glass in each hand.

"Ordered an extra of what I was having. Figured we were finally too old for the cheap stuff. I think you'll enjoy it if your tastes haven't changed much," Louis places the drink in front of him. Louis raises his glass as he calls out, "To your first visit to Murphy's." He sees a few people notice Louis' spectacle, so they tip a glass to him as well.

Harry's face is flushed when he clinks glasses with the boy across from him and takes his first sip. Louis makes a slight noise of happiness and Harry is glad he accepted the boy's offer of a night out. This was an experience they dreamed of having together. Something seemingly insignificant still warms his heart in joy.

Louis' phone pings on the table and Harry looks up in time to watch two boys stroll through the door. Louis raises his arm and motions in their direction. Harry has a difficult time making out the features of one stranger because he stops at the table Harry's ex-classmates surround. The smile of the second man creates wrinkles around his eyes when he spots the boy sitting beside him. Cropped brown hair and kind brown eyes - a bit David Beckham like, Harry thinks - make up the conventionally attractive man. When he gets close enough to the table, Louis stands to wrap him in a full bodied hug. It is instantly clear they know each other _really_ well because the two are squeezed together tightly while the stranger rubs at Louis' back.

"Took you long enough. Must have been hard to find the place, not like you haven't been here a million times," Louis' voice is laced in sarcasm.

When they finally pull away Louis introduces the two boys, "Harry, this is my coworker Liam." The brown eyed boy's eyebrows draw together. Harry doesn't know if it's in offense or confusion. "Liam, this is Harry."

An almost imperceptible shake of his head accompanies his next words, "Nice to meet you, man." Liam reaches his arm out for Harry to shake his hand. He respectfully returns the handshake and replies.

He must have spent too long studying the interactions between Louis and Liam because he nearly misses the other person reaching the table. The boy that walked in with Liam looks vaguely familiar. It takes Harry a moment to understand why. A slight stubble, medium brown hair, and neutral expression have replaced blonde hair, round cheeks, and a childlike grin. The blue eyes narrow and lips press together when the man sets sight on Harry.

"Thought you were running for mayor with the amount of hands you shook there," Louis says to the boy staring at Harry. He looks between them before settling his eyes on Harry as well. "'m sure you remember Niall." Louis tilts in his head of the direction of the newcomer while addressing him.

He offers an obligatory, "Good to see you again. It's -"

"Wish I could say the same," Niall interrupts in a flat tone. Nothing in his expression has changed as he folds his arms in front of his chest. Harry has never seen the boy with a cold exterior like this. He never had a gloomy appearance a day in his life, always smiling or bouncing around in excitement. The happy go lucky kid is nowhere to be found. The boy in front of him is only a small semblance of what he once knew.

He takes a step forward to place himself in the space between Harry and Louis.

"Niall," Louis warns. Niall's exterior seems to thaw, but it is clear he is no less upset.

Harry would like to say he is caught off guard by Niall's demeanor, but he would be lying. They spent as many days in the sandbox together as they did nights out as teenagers. He was Harry's best friend, only behind Louis, and had been for as long as he could remember. The boy was likely just as hurt as the rest of them. Every so often he wondered what Niall had gotten up to in the years since high school, but had never attempted to make contact with him. 

"Niall and I are going to grab drinks, refills anyone?" Liam asks to break the uncomfortable silence around the table. Louis and Harry shake their heads in unison. Niall gives Louis a long indecipherable look before leaving with Liam.

"Sorry about them. Figured no one would show if I gave warning," Louis says apologetically.

Harry clears his throat before speaking, "No. I, uh, understand. I wouldn't be so nice if I was in their shoes, so no hard feelings here. Do they know, um, everything?"

"Meaning?" Louis asks drawing the word out.

"Our friendship? My leaving? The reason why that whole thing was awkward?" Harry waves his hand around to indicate the scene that just occurred.

"Well, there really wasn't much that Niall wasn't around for. And Liam... " Louis trails off, glancing at the two at the bar. Harry notices that Liam was already staring in their direction, but shifts his eyes when he sees them looking. Harry raises an eyebrow inquisitively when he meets Louis' eyes again. "I tell him everything. So yeah, he knows. He is too sweet to judge before meeting though, don't worry."

"Are you two more than just-" Harry's question is cut short when Louis' friends make their way back to the table. They take seats on either side of him as if creating a barrier. Liam slightly slides his seat closer to Louis and places his arm across the chair. He whispers something to the other boy and Louis nods his head along to whatever he is saying. Louis leans in closer to reply. Something ugly swirls in Harry's gut. He forces himself to turn away before it can take root.

"How was dinner?" Niall asked though he looks like he only cares for Louis' answer.

"I think it was good. No major complaints as far as I know." Harry is forced to answer since the other boy is still occupied.

Louis must have been listening then because he follows up, "Calm yourself, Niall. Of course it was great."

"Not surprising in the least. Your mother's cooking is legendary. No one can have a bad night with comfort food. Please say hello to her for me," Liam says when his attention is finally drawn away from Louis. He forces a smile. Harry can tell that he's trying, but it doesn't make him feel any better. Harry wants to lash out at Liam's poor attempt at bonding. The idea of him taking part in family dinner makes Harry feel replaced in the worst way. Liam and Louis are too close for comfort. The unnamed emotion starts to rear its ugly head again.

"I'll be sure to let her know," he says tightly. "What have you been up to recently?" Harry asks in Niall's direction just to shift the subject. The man looks surprised to be addressed by Harry directly.

Niall opens and closes his mouth a few times like he is trying to decide on what to say. He seems to find the right words after a small glare from Louis. "Mostly work and spending time with these two. I do marketing and social media for a few businesses in the area. It was kind of something I picked up as a side gig, turns out it's not too bad."

"He is amazing. Big firms in the city have been trying to recruit him all year," Liam gushes. Niall looks down bashfully and Harry can tell he's proud of himself. Harry feels like he has every right to be from the sounds of it. He wants the boy to know that he is in awe of how well he is doing for himself. 

"Incredible. You must be doing phenomenal job if everyone wants you. Are you thinking about accepting an offer?" Harry asks.

"Nah, I rather stay with my friends and things I love," Niall mentions with a pointed look. Harry deserves that. He gets that Niall will probably never understand his reasons for leaving, but he hopes they can eventually move on. He thinks they're already making more progress than he thought possible. Harry wants to tell him all the things he should have said years ago. Niall was a better friend than he could have ever asked for and he wants them to always be part of each other's lives.

Liam jumps in to save Harry from more jabs by offering a story of his own. "I have to admit, I'm the same way. When Louis and I met in college, I never thought we would end up working together or even becoming friends. I absolutely hated the guy, but I can't imagine my life without him now, or you Nialler," he adds the last part belatedly. He offers an apologetic look to Niall and a scratch to the back of Louis' head. The latter preens with closed eyes and leans in to the touch. He looks adorably cat like. Harry would be endeared if it didn't burn so much.

"What changed?" Harry risks asking. He isn't sure he's ready to listen to another boy discuss their infatuation with Louis.

"I was in a really bad place for a while. He made me feel less lonely, I guess? I was irritated beyond belief every time he got a little out of hand. He took the time to learn more about me and like cheer me up when I was upset. It was obvious once we got to know each other that he wasn't exactly what he seemed to be, I'm sure you know what I mean. I wasn't expecting someone so argumentative to be so caring or his loud mouth to listen and actually remember most of what I said." Harry glances at Louis while Liam is speaking.

The man is pretending not to listen while playing with the label on his beer, but it's clear he hears every word by the small smile on his face. Liam continues, "We became really close and he knew I didn't really have a plan for my life, so he helped me with a lot. By the end of school he was doing really well for himself and kind of asked me to tag along." Louis looks slightly alarmed when Liam finished his story. The two stare at each other for a long time. They look like they may be having a silent conversation that makes Harry feel like he is intruding on something personal.

Niall must have realized something was off because he goes back to talking about the accounts around town he is in charge of and what he loves about each of them. Enthusiasm is leaking out of him as he talks. It is the first time all night that he looks completely at ease in his presence. As Niall is speaking, Louis raises two fingers to signal another round from Murphy. It isn't until the drink is placed in front of him that he realizes the other order was to replace his now empty one. He thanks the older man and smiles at Louis to show his appreciation.

Harry watches closely as Liam finally moves his arm from around Louis. He hates that the sight makes him breathe easier.

He tries to casually size Liam up by learning more about him. He has yet to even ask what it is that he or Louis do for a living. He tries to casually broach the subject by asking if their jobs had ever mixed with Niall's in any way. It was fairly common for people of a town of this size to work closely with one another.

"Niall is actually does marketing for Louis and I," Liam glances at Louis as he speaks again, "He is our go to guy for pretty much anything that concerns spreading the word. He knows just about everyone in town and has more connections than I could only dream of keeping up with. That's actually how I know he deserves to be running a major firm. Amazing, he is."

"What exactly is it that you two do?" Harry asks to Liam and Louis.

"I work on distributing pieces to art galleries. He is in charge of money and making sure they end up in the right place," Louis answers, "Don't let him fool you, he is as good as Niall. I don't know how I've kept him here for so long. Sometimes our workload is insane."

"Sounds sick. I have to admit, Lou, I never saw you working for an artist type."

"Why not?" Louis sounds mildly offended.

Harry shrugs. "You've never been one for authority and I would think artists would be pretty particular on the way things are done. You would also have to be careful with priceless pieces, I'm sure even you can admit that part might not be your strong suit." Liam and Niall laugh hysterically. Louis looks even more offended than he did before as he fixes his fringe out of his eyes. 

He nudges Liam in the ribs for his continued amusement. The brown eyed boy give Louis an apologetic smile while Niall continues letting out small huffs. Liam tries to wrangle him in by asking Harry about his schooling. He informs them of his time in the city, the business degree is studying for, and some funny stories he's picked up along the way. They listen intently to everything and laugh when appropriate. The air feels completely clear for the first time since the other two boys walked in the bar.

The world cup becomes the next topic of discussion and Louis finally dominates the conversation. He still fervently - and foolishly in Harry's opinion - supports England while the rest of the table rolls their eyes in annoyance. The men bicker with each other over every bit of information, all in good fun. The other conversations consist of the four men speaking over one another in their haste to be heard. Harry sometimes has difficulty keeping up with the topic, but he enjoys listening to the noise. Most of the tension from before is gone. The table feels lighter than he thought possible.

Liam and Niall get up to settle their tabs at the shout for last call. Louis stops Harry from moving with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"I invited you out with my friends, this one's on me. You can get us next time," Louis says with a wink. Harry is happy that the man walks away without another glance in his direction because he is sure his face is bright red at the implication of another night out with Louis.

The two boys at the bar find his expression hilarious when they catch sight of his face. They have mostly sobered up by the time they reach the table. The Niall from earlier in the night is back. It's as though he suddenly remembered that he was supposed to be angry with Harry. His eyes narrow as he comes upon the table. He leans in close when he begins to speak.

"Louis might pretend everything is okay, but I want you to know that a few nice nights _do not_ make up for what you put everyone through. I refuse to sit by when you ultimately decide to leave again without a word. I am still really mad at you for disappearing on me, but I am absolutely _livid_ on his behalf, not that I will tell him that," Niall's cold tone make Harry feel two inches tall, "Consider this the 'if you hurt him' big brother speech because I am only going to warn you once. I am giving you the benefit of the doubt for his sake and you better not make me regret it."

Harry can only nod his head in understanding because Louis is on his way back to them. Never in his life has he seen Niall so angry. A kid pushed him on the playground in fourth grade and he just laughed it off. A girl broke up with him two nights before prom and he found someone else like nothing happened. Harry comes back to town and Niall is seconds away from tearing him apart.

They all take turns saying their goodbyes. Liam wraps Louis in another tight embrace that makes Harry look in any other direction. Niall pulls Louis into a hug next and Harry can hear a mumbled conversation between the two. Liam shakes Harry's hand again and offers to make plans to see each other soon. Harry is surprised that he is actually interested despite the unpleasant feelings the boy's relationship with Louis gives him. He even gets a goodbye salute from Niall on his way out the door.

"Think I'm going to stay at Nan's if you would like to walk back with me?" Louis asks when the other two have left.

"Of course. I assumed that was the plan to be honest. Are you not living down the street?" Harry is the first to walk out of the bar and waits for Louis before continuing on his walk.

"No, Iz and I moved out to give Nan some peace. We have our own place a few streets from yours, but we stay with her every once in a while."

Harry finally saw a chance to ask a question that has been on his mind for a while, "When did you become Izzy's guardian?"

Louis' eyes scan his face for what feels like forever. He must pass whatever test Louis had secretly given in his mind because he soon answers.

"About two and a half years ago. I was nearly done with school and Izzy was starting to get a bit out of hand. Nothing too bad, but it wasn't exactly easy to deal with. I had already planned to move out at the end of term, but I couldn't stop feeling like I was leaving all of my responsibilities behind. Wasn't like I felt that Nan wasn't capable of caring for Izzy; I just thought it might be better for her if she only had to worry about herself," Louis keeps staring ahead of him when he speaks.

"Nan isn't sick exactly, but she isn't quite sprightly enough to handle a teenager. We have always been fortunate to have a comfortable life and I guess I thought it was time to take advantage of it. I wasn't ready to leave Nan alone, so we hired a caregiver to check in on her. We try to visit as much as possible without being annoying. It took a lot of long conversations and compromises, but we finally made it work. Nan is taken care of, someone can keep an eye on Izzy, and I feel like I'm helping them in some way."

"Is it, um, hard?" Harry asks dumbly.

"Sometimes. I don't think it can really be simplified into easy or hard. I haven't always been in a position to care for anyone, so I feel like some days are really difficult. Iz and I still fight like crazy and life throws a lot in our path, but I think it has been worth it," Louis tone is serious as he speaks. Harry can tell that he takes a moment to think about what he wants to say next because the indecision is written on the boy's face.

"Your mom has been an angel. She has taught me a lot about what it really means to be there for someone. Izzy is really independent, but I think we all need someone now and again. I want to be there for her if there comes a time when she feels really lost or alone. Nan is great, don't get me wrong, but your mom really helped me come into my own. I want Izzy to have that too. It's one of the reasons we kept the dinner tradition. I want her to have a million examples of good that can come from the world."

Harry feels an abundance of love for his mother. He is constantly amazed by the amount of love she is able to put out to the world. Harry prays that he can be even a tiny piece of what she is. He is glad she is in Louis' corner and that Louis wants to do the same for his little sister. Harry can't imagine what it must be like for the Tomlinson children, but he thinks they will always be alright as long as Louis is the one looking out for them.

The two finish their journey in a companionable silence. Their hands brush occasionally as they walk and Harry itches to reach out to hold the other boy. He wants to convey how much it means to him that Louis shared a piece of himself with Harry. He wants to show that he is so amazed by what has become of the blue eyed boy. He wants to express all the feelings inside of himself, but he doesn't know how to put them into words. He wants to show affection in the way that was once so simple for them.

They soon come to a stop outside of Harry's house. Louis walks up the steps and follows him to the door. He looks ethereal in the pale moonlight. His blue eyes sparkle more than the stars in the sky. The wrinkles gathered on the sides make him look younger. His smile looks delicate in a way he hasn't seen in years. He is reminded of the boy that once held Harry's world in his eyes. Louis stands close to him, brushing the thumb of one hand across Harry's cheek while the other rests on the dip where his neck and shoulder meet. His smile gets impossibly soft when he feels the indention below his thumb.

The tingling against his skin makes his head spin. He was struggling to hold on to the anger that he desperately wanted to feel. The moment felt too perfect to not ruin.

"I want to hate you. I _tried_ to hate you," slips out of his mouth. Harry doesn't know why he is even saying this out loud. He didn't think he would ever clue Louis in on the danger inside his head.

The smile instantly drops off Louis' face. His arms fall to his sides. He steps away like he's been slapped, eyes widened in hurt. Harry didn't expect the words to come out the way they did. He was so caught up in Louis that he let his guard down. He desperately wants to bring the boy back to him, to stay blissfully unaware for a moment longer.

"What?" Louis asks in disbelief, face ashen.

"The longer I was away from you the easier it was." Harry is too far gone to stop now.

"And now?" Louis asks, voice flat and face expressionless.

Louis has started to slowly back away from him. His head is shaking, but Harry just can't stop talking. He wants Louis to know that he was wrong. It wasn't Louis' fault that Harry couldn't keep his feelings in check. He doesn't deserve to be disliked for something he had no control over.

"I only ended up hating myself- " Harry says, voice wobbly. Louis gives him a sad look. He tries to reach out, but Harry is the one to back away this time. He feels so guilty for what he put the blue eyed boy through. He didn't want his sympathy. He has been so kind since the moment they bumped into each other.

"I blamed you for the way you made me feel. I was scared and alone even with you laying beside me. I needed you in a way that no one should ever need another person. I couldn't even tell who I was when you weren't here, I just felt like an extension of you. I was ceasing to exist, because I didn't think I could be someone without you. You were the only thing I ever wanted from the world and I don't think it should have been like that. You shouldn't have to lose yourself to be a part of someone else."

Now that he's started, he can't seem to stop. He wants Louis to know, or to try to understand, in case this is the last time he chooses to see him. Harry wants to make sure he knows that it was never his fault. He took care of him, was there for him, and Harry's reason for running away had nothing to do with anything other than his own dislike for himself.

"I left because I needed to know that I could live without you. I thought everything would be okay again if I woke up one morning and disappeared. So I saved for an apartment, changed my number, and walked away before I realized you were something I could never do without. I'm so sorry for hurting you, but-" his voice breaks, "I'm not sorry for trying to help myself."

Harry runs inside before he can fully break down.


	5. I'LL SMILE TO HIDE THE TRUTH

The blinding sun peaking in from the window causes Harry to blink awake. A few calm moments pass before the weight of reality sets on his mind. Sandpaper eyes and a searing headache serve as a clear reminder of the previous night's events. Louis' wide glossy eyes, pale pink lips rounded in shock, and the never ending distance between them are still fresh in his mind. Harry couldn't bear the thought of watching Louis hurt any longer, so he ran before the boy could even move.

Crippling sobs overtook his body as soon as the door closed behind him. He cried and shook under the burden of his thoughts. It took a while for him to compose himself enough to make the short journey to his room. Sleep finally put his mind at ease after hours of aimlessly staring at the picture across from his bed.

In the light of day and without the pain of the past hanging over him, Harry thinks more about the night before. He feels embarrassed about all the things he said to his old friend, but he is relieved to have finally given Louis the explanation that he should have had four years ago.

The circling train of thought grinds to a halt with two knocks on his door.

He sits up in bed and calls out to the person on the other side. It is tentatively pushed open to reveal two pale green eyes. His mother wears a mask of false nonchalance. Harry can sense that she's trying to wheedle information out of him without openly prying. Neither of them speak until she takes a seat on the bench at the foot of his bed.

"Oh, I wasn't sure if you were home. I didn't hear you come in last night."

"I didn't want to disturb you since we stayed until last call," he says pretending not to know what she's up to.

"Did you have a good time?" she tries again.

"It was fine, I guess." He shrugs between sentences. "Liam and Niall came along too. The first few minutes were absolutely terrifying, but it got better by the end. It was good to see Ni again, though I'm not sure he feels the same. I was caught off guard by how angry he was. I didn't think he was capable of looking like anything other than a growling kitten."

The woman puffs out a small chuckle.

"I'm sure he'll come around. He needs time to be upset. Give him time and if you decide a friendship is worth the struggle then it will be stronger for it," she states with a certainty he doesn't feel.

He's been working through his self doubt for years. It's a process that he has gotten used to, but there are some days that still feel harder than others. He hasn't been drawn back to a low point in a very long time. The memories of what this place used to hold seem to have brought that side out of him again. He doesn't want to run anymore. He came home to merge the life he used to live with the one he is trying to build. It was one of the reasons why he was so eager to trade in his small university apartment for the little town he once knew.

She pulls him back to her with a few words, "And how did you feel meeting Liam? He is lovely, isn't he?"

"He was nice, I guess." Another shrug of his shoulders accompanies the sentence.

"He's a good kid. Louis has brought him around a few times." Harry's heart sinks at his mother's words.

"Didn't realize they were so close," Harry says petulantly. He can't stop the unwelcome emotion he gets over the new addition to Louis' friend group. He is happy that his former best friend has someone new, but he hates feeling like he should be the one in the other boy's place.

He truly appreciated the kindness Liam showed him, but it was hard to swallow the idea of anyone beside Louis. The boy looked like he fit seamlessly into their lives. He and Niall laughed over inside jokes and Louis was practically attached to him for most of the evening. As irritating as it was Harry had a difficult time disliking him. Harry had no valid reason for being anything other than pleasant to him. As much as he hated it he was there for Louis when Harry wasn't. He made a promise to himself that he was never going to let personal feelings cloud his judgement of the boy.

His mother gives him a knowing look that makes him feel even more childish.

"I think you'll really like him if you get a chance to know more about him. Their partnership has done wonders for them. I think they really helped each other through a great deal."

Wanting to clear his mind, Harry recounts the night for his mother. She listens intently without interruptions. He started with the uncomfortable emotions he felt from the moment he left his bedroom. The apprehension at spending time in the presence of Louis, the surprising feeling of comfort once the evening began, and the shock when he realized the closeness of their families. He mentions the bubbling excitement he felt when Louis didn't want the night to end and the nostalgia of spending time with his two oldest friends.

He told her about the horrible feeling in his chest when he noticed the closeness of Louis and Liam. Every interaction seemed loaded with meaning. A masochistic part of him was happy to see it. He breezes by the conversations at the bar before he eventually gets to the end of the night. The whole day was an emotional windstorm that came crashing down all at once and led to a confession he didn't expect to come out of his mouth.

"His face..." He trails off not knowing how to describe it. "I don't think I will ever forget that look. One minute he was my Louis and the next he was the boy I ran away from because I was too scared of myself. He just looked so -" He lets out a sad sigh - "I don't know. I think I let my guard down because I saw a glimpse of the beautiful boy that has never left my mind."

Harry has never been so happy for the close relationship he shares with his mother. A huge burden has been lifted by sharing his worries with her. He wishes it hadn't taken him so long to realize how important it was to let others in. He spent so much time holding everything inside it finally exploded into the mess he still finds himself cleaning.

He has learned a lot from his mistakes, but it still feels wrong to unload all of his darkest secrets. The motherly look she is giving him makes him worry about what she thinks. The remaining feelings of weakness pull at him for confessing his fears. Nagging doubts nearly consume him while he waits for her to speak.

"It must have been hard to let go of that after so long." She gets up from her seat to wrap her arms around him tightly. He can feel all the remaining stress slip from his body. She rubs at his arm as she speaks again, "You're going to have a lot to work out if you want to be on good terms with the boys. I am sure Louis is going to want to have a heart to heart eventually. I think a piece of him has been holding on to the past almost as much as you have. You need to find out what you want from your time here. It might be time to right some wrongs."

"I think I know what I want. Niall and Louis were the best friends I could have ever hoped to have and I wasn't the best at the end. They deserve better than the way they were treated. I want to show them that I truly am sorry for everything," Harry says honestly.

"I love you, my dear. I want you to know that I will fight to the ends of the earth to protect you," She sounds earnest like she wants him to understand this if nothing else, "With that being said, I don't exactly disagree with you. You have made some mistakes and you have hurt a lot of people. Not one thing about that makes you a bad person or a terrible friend. I think you have a long road ahead of you and it probably won't be an easy one." 

Harry has always appreciated her way of speaking about important matters. There was never sugar coating the truth and underlying sincerity always accompanies her words.

"I should also own up to my faults," she continues after a time with each left to their own thoughts, "I may be privy to more than Louis is willing to share with you and I have to respect his decisions. I do apologize for keeping details about Louis separate from you over the years and especially the other night. I could have done a better job of not letting you down."

"You could never let me down," he rushes out, "I was not in the best place and I blamed everyone else for my problems. I was just surprised by how out of touch I was."

"I have to be honest though, I was incredibly angry with you for a time," he adds belatedly. His mother nods like she knew it was coming.

He is having a hard time looking her in the eyes. He stares at the wall behind her because he fears he will break if he catches her gaze at the wrong moment. He pulls his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around them to create his own shield of armor.

He could easily avoid the pain by making up a lie, but this is more open than they have been in years. Harry thinks she deserves some honesty after hiding from each other for so long. Maybe things would be different if he had the courage to speak his truth back then. Talking about the pain he felt is supposed to make it easier. The first step to forgiving himself, forgiving each other.

"I thought you were intentionally ignoring my pain. I would lay awake and wonder how could you not know. I went through it all alone. I felt invisible, which was understandable with anyone else, but my own mother? How could she not see that I was only a shell of a person? I felt like I was drowning. I was calling out to you with everything I had in me; but you just stood and watched until it was almost too late. I thought you had given up on me. You should have known and the fact that you didn't hurt more than I could express," Harry's voice has gotten thick by the end.

Years removed from that dark time, he realizes that the situation wasn't as clear as he had once thought. There was so much more to what was happening than the way he had felt. He has always had a great life, but the feeling that something was missing followed him around for the latter half of his teenage years. He pushed the confusion, anger, and sadness on to other people. He blamed her for things that she had no control over.

She worked hard to make sure he never felt the pain of having a parent that wasn't around. He was fortunate enough to have her at all of his school functions and everywhere he wanted to go. There was never a tournament that went without her cheering from the crowd or a choir show without her proudly watching from her seat. She took in his friends without him ever having to ask. She would host playdates for him with kids around the neighborhood or dinners with the Tomlinsons.

He had more than most and the guilt at not being happy about it ate at him for a long time. Now he feels grateful for all that he was given all of the love and he wants her to know that. He wants to be better for her. And for himself.

"I'm not saying this to upset you. I'm telling you because I want you to know what was going on inside of my head. I know better now. I know you love me and do your best. I don't blame you anymore because I realize that I never should have in the first place. I love you so much. I am so thankful to have you." He wants to get the words out because he doesn't know if he will ever have the courage to bring it up again.

Harry finally takes a look at his mother. Tears are openly streaming down her face. Little sniffles are the only sound in the room. Harry unfolds himself from where he is sitting to hold his mother tightly. He pets over her hair until the sniffles die out.

She takes a deep breath to steady herself.

"I want you to know that I would have given anything to help you then. I am so truly sorry that you had to endure that on your own. I assumed you were experiencing teenage problems. I thought it wasn't my place to say anything. Sweetheart, I wanted to give you space to grow and work out who you wanted to be. I didn't realize that wanting you to find independence would make you think I was giving up on you. It was never about not caring because you have always been the most important thing in my world," she finishes with conviction.

The two sit beside each other in silence each reflecting on their conversation. Another weight has been lifted off his shoulders. He just hopes that his mother doesn't carry it for him.

She looks to have gathered herself. Tears are no longer in sight. She looks no different than when she first arrived with her bright eyes and hesitant appearance.

The stillness of the room is eventually interrupted by the vibrating of his mother's phone. He can see a glimpse of the name before she puts it back in its place.

"You can check it. I told you, we're good," he says honestly, "Thank you for listening."

She searches his face, but she doesn't take her phone out again.

"If we're putting our cards on the table, I think I should warn you that Isabella is not your biggest fan at the moment either," the woman states to break the silence.

"I figured. Louis was acting really weird when I brought her up last night and he let it slip that she usually joins you. I didn't want to just assume it was my fault though. He didn't, um, like intentionally tell her bad stuff, did he?"

Deep down he knows the truth, Louis would never do anything to taint Izzy's childhood memories. Harry also knows that the other boy would never be petty or vindictive. She was old enough to understand that he didn't even stop to give her a proper goodbye. She has always been steadfast in her emotions and it is going to take a lot for her to let him in again.

"Never mind. Please, don't answer that. I know he wouldn't. I think I have a lot to work on - and think about - before I even think about approaching Louis about speaking with Iz. I don't want to be another person that is constantly walking out of her life. I don't even know if he's going to want to speak to me after last night. It's not everyday you're told how much someone wishes they hated you."

"I doubt that will be a problem. He called me this morning to ask how you were doing. I had no clue what happened and he didn't seem keen on filling me in on the details. I think he is a lot more than you give him credit for," she says.

He feels trickles of embarrassment at the thought of Louis using his mother to check in on him. She has been drawn into the mess that is Harry's life. Worry lines cross her face when he looks at her. If nothing else comes from their earlier conversation, Harry is happy that they both know they're in this together.

The incessant ringing of Harry's phone interrupts them. He gets up to grab it from the night stand. Harry sees Louis' name flash across his screen. He must have given the boy a scare with the sudden turn in mood and he must be calling because the woman never got back to him. He is itching to speak to the boy, but is hesitant to answer without knowing what words await him.

"Figured you were avoiding me," is the first thing Louis says after Harry's greeting. No traces of anger or sadness fill his voice. A small hint of relief takes over.This will be easier than he thought.

He looks up to see his mother has already left the room, leaving him alone with the sweet raspy voice on the other end of the line.

"I couldn't even if I wanted to," Harry jokes. He worries for a second that it might fall flat given their history, but he hears a huff of a laugh. Harry takes the phone away from his ear to see two messages from Louis and slew of others from his university friends. "I was still getting my beauty sleep when you messaged me this morning. We can't all be effortless, you know."

"I'm aware, believe me. I would look like a troll if I didn't get my naps in and not the cute Justin Timberlake kind." The amusement in Louis' voice sends a burst of warmth in his chest. They are miles away from the emotions they carried in the early morning hours. Harry hopes to avoid that heaviness until they absolutely can't any longer.

"And are you aware that you're like the only person under fifty that still makes phone calls?" Harry asks.

His cell phone partner stays with him while he makes a late lunch and they laugh while Harry rudely eats on the phone. It brings him back to a teenage version of himself. He and Louis would talk for hours when they were kept apart physically. Harry even mentions this to Louis as they are giggling over stupid memories. The topics remain lighthearted and easy.

Louis tells him that he spent most of the morning arguing with his sister about her chores. He tells Harry that he was horrified to find the teenager had ignored the list of things she was supposed to do for the week. Harry can only imagine the stomping that went along with their disagreement. It was probably difficult to tell which of the two Tomlinsons was still in their teenage years.

Harry tells the boy that his little quirks made their way into the Styles household and followed him to his own apartment. For the first time that afternoon, the line is silent. Harry can sense that something is wrong, but he wants to give Louis space to bring it up on his own.

"Did you think about us a lot?" Louis asks tentatively. Harry is taken aback. He thought the answer would be obvious.

Sections of Louis were all over his life. His mannerisms, memories, and belongings seeped into every inch of him. Harry would be brought back to the blue eyed boy when he caught himself sitting a certain way. He had to learn how to sleep on his own because he hadn't done it in so long. The journal Louis designed for him is still used whenever Harry's thoughts get too loud. A grey sweater from their high school years is crammed in the back of his closet.

Louis helped lead their school team to the state finals and each player got a shirt with their last name printed on the front of it. Louis was so proud of it that he wore it every winter. Years of use made it the most comfortable thing he owned. Louis would hand it to Harry every time he asked and he wore it so often the lining of embroidered letters were known by his heart. Harry took it out of Louis' closet a few days before he walked out of that house for the last time. He would dig it out on nights he was so homesick that he could barely stand it. The soft material hanging around his shoulders felt like being pulled in a warm hug for the first time.

"How could you even doubt that? I saw you everywhere, in everything I did. I would hear your voice every time your favorite songs were on the radio. My clothes only reminded me of seeing you in them. I would have a rough day and only think of coming home to you," Harry confessed. He hears a shaky breath released on the other side. Louis might have been holding it like he was expecting a different answer. "You were all I ever thought about."

"Then why not call?" Desperation is clear in the question. Harry can feel it from his side as well.

Harry has asked himself this question a lot over the years. He walked out and expected his life to instantly change for the better. He thought this place was the only thing holding him back from being the kind of happy you see on TV. Days, weeks, months went by and sometimes he thought he was worse off. He spent a countless nights in bed wondering where it all went wrong. The only explanation that he could come up with is that it was not his own fault. The easiest thing he could think of was to blame the person he found himself thinking about most.

It took Harry a long time to realize that life wasn't going to magically get better because he changed his address. He wanted to try to reconnect when things turned around, but it felt too late to reach out. He had a new home, new friends, and a new life. He thought if he could hate him for a little longer, he wouldn't have to think about all the time he missed.

"I don't know. I just -" Harry is pacing across his room. Harry has no honest answer for him. Nothing he could say would change anything - "don't have an answer to that."

Silence covers the phone call for the second time that afternoon. Harry checks the screen to make sure that Louis didn't hang up on him. "Lou?" He asks quietly, scared that he is going to break the conversation for good.

"I was actually, uh, calling to see if you wanted to come over for lunch tomorrow? We can have some time to ourselves," Louis says in an unreadable voice.

"I would love to," he says genuinely. Harry has a list of questions that he chooses to ignore because he wants to give Louis time. They have had a wonderful afternoon talking and he wants tomorrow to go as well as today.

"Text you the details later." The call is ended as soon as the words are out of his mouth. Harry stares at his phone long after the screen has gone dark. A bittersweet emotion lands in his heart. Louis always ended calls with a goodbye, but he hung up abruptly for the first time in his life. He decides not to linger on it for too long because they had a lovely day otherwise.

-

A flutter of excitement fills Harry's belly at the sight of the address Louis sent him the previous night. Not much sets it apart from others in the area, but the boy inside is something worth being excited for. Harry takes his time up the walkway. He ruffles his hair back into place nervously before pressing on the bell.

An alluring being stands before him a few seconds later. A lavender shirt hangs off one shoulder, an artfully messy fringe lays across his forehead, and a delicate smile graces his face. Nothing compares to the picture he makes.

They say hellos to each other before Louis moves to let Harry inside. The entryway is lined with a small storage bench and shelves full of keys, shoes, and coats. The main room is colored in neutrals and accented in hints of bright bold colors. The room is well designed, beautifully simple. He thinks it represents Louis in every way.

"You have a gorgeous home," Harry voices his thoughts.

"You sound like a little old lady." Harry rolls his eyes at Louis' words. "Thank you, though I can't take much credit. I hired someone to pick out furniture, paints, and stuff. Iz and I tried our best to make it our own after most of it was done." It's hard to believe that Louis was as involved as he made it seem. Harry knows him well enough to imagine him hovering over his designer and obsessing over every last thing.

Louis points out different mementos he has on display while guiding him to the kitchen. He stops to crouch beside the kitchen island. Harry rounds the corner to find a small food bowl on the floor. A few taps of Louis' finger brings a little puff of orange fur bounding into the room. The sight of the animal makes Louis' eyes crinkle affectionately. The man picks up it up from where it is rubbing itself against his legs. A cute patch of white fur surrounds one of the two bright blue eyes looking at Harry warily.

The cat's eyes close in contentment when her owner happily press his face against the bundle in his arms. Harry thinks it might be difficult to tell which one is currently acting more kitten like. Seeing the man interact with the orange furball makes Harry's heart feel two sizes too big.

"Harry, I would like you to meet Bowie. She loves cuddles, pets behind the ears, and long naps on the sofa." Louis raises the little animal so her eyes are level with Harry's. She looks more relaxed now that Louis has given her some attention. "Bowie, meet Harry. He loves cuddles, pets behind the ears, and long naps on the sofa," Louis whispers like a secret.

Harry rolls his eyes fondly. He holds out his hand to let Bowie test him out before petting her behind one of her ears when he doesn't sense any signs of distress. The kitten closes her eyes similarly to the way she did when Louis was the one showing her love.

"I think we'll get along just fine," he whispers to the orange kitten. Louis gives him a shining smile in response. He thinks that meeting the newest addition to the blue eyed boy's family might have been more important to him than when Harry met his friends the other night. Louis offers Bowie treats as thanks after placing her on the floor gently.

Louis tells the story of finding Bowie as he washes up and continues setting up lunch. Harry can imagine the sight of Louis opening the front door to find a soaking wet animal running between his legs before he had the chance to get out. Louis still has a smile on his face even as he speaks of chasing her around to keep the mess from trailing across the floors. The little thing must have had the man at first sight because he cleaned her up and kept her forever.

"She can be a menace, but is the most adorable thing," Louis concludes the story.

The conversation is effectively ended when Louis becomes focused on finishing their meal. Harry watches Louis work from his seat at the kitchen island. A small wrinkle of concentration forms between his brows. His relaxed appearance makes him look confident as he moves around the room. Louis is more in his element than he expected. Harry was used to the version of Louis that spent more time supervising than working.

Teenage Louis would sneak in and flip on the radio as soon as he got the chance. Harry's attention would immediately be drawn to the blue eyed boy the second he hopped onto the counter. Louis would pepper in small comments in between his singing to the soundtrack playing around them. He would pull Harry in by the belt loops every time he got within touching distance. Harry lived for the time he spent standing between the dangling legs of the boy on the counter.

He is still in his daydream when Louis speaks up.

"Lunch is nearly ready, grandma. C'mon, I've got a surprise."

Happiness engulfs them as they begin plating their meal and follows them as Louis leads him across the house.

They eventually come upon a pergola covered in fairy lights, flowers, and fabric. Harry thinks it is absolutely beautiful. His mind creates images of a future with Louis in this spot offering each other soft words and even softer looks. The white fabric enclosed to create a space that makes it feel as though they are the only people in the world. The twinkling light shinning around Louis while he is cuddled against Harry discussing their day. He can imagine picking the best flowers to place in the boy's hair like he used to do as a child.  


"I love it out here and I thought you might like it too," he sounds hopeful.

Harry is incredibly pleased to know that Louis thought of him when he wasn't around. He hopes they have more time here because he thinks he may already love the space too.

"I would love to spend an afternoon here."

Louis nods delightedly.

"I can picture you sitting in spot as an old man," Harry reveals. Forty years down the line he takes his morning coffee at the small table, has lunch with his children while his grandchildren run around the yard, relaxing with a book and evening tea. What Harry leaves unsaid is that he can see himself sharing all of these moments with the man.

"It's a good start, but 'm not sure it's long term. I want to have the full experience if I ever get a chance to settle down with someone - house hunting, arguing over paint colors, the whole nine yards," Louis says wistfully.

It sounds nice, building a life together. Walking hand in hand around different houses and envisioning a home in each of them. Late night cuddles with glasses of wine and long debates over their favorites. Reminiscing while packing up their single lives and merging them into one. Meals on the floor, unpacking boxes, and making new memories together. They discussed it frequently enough that the scenes are clear in his mind. Harry just can't imagine Louis doing it with anyone else.

He pushes the pictures to the darkest corner of his mind. Instead, he asks of his life now.

"Did you have that in mind when you moved in to this place?"

"I'm not going to lie and say that it didn't cross my mind, but it was more of a fleeting thought than anything else. I'm happy here. I'm just renting for now. I had Niall ask around about some places and Liam helped me narrow them down. Then I brought Iz and Nan in for the final decisions. It was a group effort, so I wouldn't mind staying long term if that is what fate has laid out for me."

Louis only deserves the best and Harry believes fate will give him everything the blue eyed beauty dreams of. He just hopes it's not Liam. The Becks lookalike must have been around for much longer than he realized if he was close enough to help Louis make big decisions in his life. Harry understands that he has no right to feel annoyed, but it does nothing to stop the bitter taste in his mouth at the thought of Liam taking the spot he left behind.

"Liam seems like a good friend to you," Harry says masking his displeasure.

"He is one of the best men I have ever known. I honestly don't know how he puts up with me," a chirpy tone to his voice. A hum of acknowledgement is all he receives in response. "Our first year as roommates was horrendous. I don't know if you remember all the times I complained about him, but I am glad we stuck it out."

A flicker of a memory lights up when Louis mentions his college roommate.

Louis went to the university just outside of town. He lived at home for the first year, but he hated the early morning commute so much that he decided to move to the dorms for his second year. Harry had never met the boy because Louis spent every spare moment at home with him and Izzy. He used most of that time to whine about his high-strung roommate. Louis felt like he was constantly being looked down on for spending so much time at home and was criticized for every little thing. Their arguments sounded legendary.

Harry has no idea how they got to where they are today. Harry asks him about this and gets the story in return. Louis expands a bit on what Liam said at the bar.

He noticed the boy withdrawing as the semester came to a close and he tried to spend more time with him. They enjoyed getting to know one another and soon realized they had more in common than they thought. Harry was so stuck in his head that summer that he must have missed the change between the two. Louis said they decided to try another year together and they got on like a house on fire the second time around.

"He kept my head above water. I don't know where I would be if it weren't for him," Louis ends the story.

Harry feels another shred of guilt for his immediate dislike of Liam. He was a large part of Louis' life and Harry will have to learn to swallow the unfounded jealousy if he wants to be a part of it again. He has to swallow his pride for the relationship he is trying to build with Louis.

"I am glad you have someone like him. I wish my roommates issues would have turned out well," Harry adds the last bit on to subtlety steer the conversation away.

He tells of his two years of failed roommates and the small apartment he was able to score for himself. They trade stories about college life and terrible roommate experiences. Harry selfishly feels much better about himself when Louis complains about Liam's worst habits. As far as he knows, Louis has only ever found his quirks amusing.

Harry speaks about new people in his life. He is so thankful to have found a group of people willing to take him in at his worst. They have been there as a substitute family when he was too scared to face his own. They know little about his past, but have made his present so much better.

They talk more about the group of friends he hopes Louis will like to meet someday. It might be presumptuous of him to assume that they continue building this friendship once the summer ends, but deep down he knows that is what he wants most out of the summer.

 


	6. THROUGH ALL THE WORRY I STILL HEAR YOUR VOICE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I promise there are no MCU spoilers in this  
> \- You can find my tumblr @twentysomethingramblings if you want to talk Marvel characters or make complaints  
> \- Fun fact: Some of the conversations and situations are based on different points in my life. I like to think of this as therapeutic writing.

Harry is finally beginning to settle in to a routine he enjoys. He goes for a morning run, grabs a shower, and makes breakfast to start his day. Each afternoon he has taken to completing the list his mother set out for him. The last few days have gone by in a blur of cleaning the yard, grocery shopping, and organizing the inside of the house. Despite the tedious work, Harry has been walking around in a bubble of happiness for each minute of his day.

He and Louis have been trading messages back and forth when they are able to spare a moment. Funny selfies, stray thoughts, and occasional late night phone calls keep them connected in the days following their last meeting. The evening after their lunch, he sends a text to Louis thanking him for the wonderful afternoon. He receives sweet words with a string of nonsensical emojis as a reply. A flicker of amusement passes when he tries to decipher them. A new message comes in before he can reply informing him that the boy didn't realize he hit a few buttons too many. The thought had Harry sitting in his room giggling to himself.

A few more messages were traded before his phone was ringing. Low voices continue long into the night. The call comes to an end when words become indiscernible sounds. Harry says a muffled good night while Louis gives a whispered good morning. He drifts to sleep with a fuzzy feeling warming his body.

Sometimes it's easy for him to forget all the reasons why he resisted doing this for so long. It's like their afternoon together broke a barrier between them. Harry's body itches to give every free moment to the blue eyed wonder. Harry has to continuously remind himself to keep a safe distance. Each moment indulging himself risks falling back to old patterns.

He gives in to his need to see the Louis sooner than he thought he would. The boy keeps running around in his head throughout his morning workout. It takes time to find enough courage to ask Louis if they can see each other again. Excitement and dread fill him in equal measure when he finally sends the message. Even after days of rekindling a friendship, he still worries he will be rejected. Nervously, he paces the kitchen until his phone beeps with Louis' acceptance.

Days later the bell overhead chimes when he opens the door to reveal familiar pale blue walls. The blonde cashier from before nods a greeting to him as she wipes down tables. He spares a thought to wonder if she is someone that he was supposed to remember. Two other workers stand behind the counter. A teenage looking boy takes the blonde girl's spot from his last visit while another teenager takes care of orders. The room is highly populated for the time of day. Most tables have at least one occupied chair and a line of people waiting in front of the counter.

He wanders over to his usual booth to find someone already there. His footsteps cause a pair of oceanic eyes to gaze up at him from under a chestnut fringe. The boy stands to envelop him in a warm embrace. Harry instantly melts into the touch, eyes fluttering closed. It feels like coming up for air after holding his breath for too long. He has an urge to breathe in the boy's comfort. He feels a pat to his back seconds before they separate.

Harry takes his usual seat across from Louis. He sneaks a glance at the picture hanging on the wall. He assumed it would have been replaced with someone else, a new group of kids in search of a safety net. He loves that it looks as though it was still waiting for their return.

Louis quickly sorts out the objects on the table. He picks up a few papers to place inside the leather portfolio he has with him before expertly zipping it. He places a few journals and the book on top of his laptop. Harry wonders what he is doing with all these things. Louis must feel his curious gaze because he looks up questioningly as he places everything in the backpack on the floor.

"Sorry, lost track of time trying to finish up paper work. Hope you don't mind having lunch here. I know you used to like those croissant sandwich things." Louis waves over the blonde from the tables. She hurriedly disappears through a door behind the counter after Louis caught her attention.

The girl approaches them again with two meals in her hands. Harry watches Louis speak in hushed tones to her. He manages to absorb fragments of what is being passed, something about a break and calls. Harry is having difficulty following their words because he easily becomes distracted by light pink movement. He realizes the conversation has come to an end when the distracting movement stops. A slow smirk pulls across the boy's mouth. Harry flushes a bright crimson at being caught staring at Louis' lips. He thinks he hears the girl giggle as she walks away.

"Uh, did I miss something?" Harry asks sheepishly with a gesture to the food in front of them. "I didn't know those pretty blues came with front door service."

"Nah," Louis says with a blush dusting his cheeks, "The new manager, Candice, tries to make sure I'm properly fed when I'm on a working binge. She offered to bring us some things when it came time for lunch."

"I hope I didn't interrupt your workday," a slight hint of guilt laces his voice.

"I just had a few meetings and a bit of paperwork to finish. Kind of why we met here. Would have loved to take you to a new spot in town. I can think of a couple you would really like." Harry is pleased to hear that Louis has thought of places he would enjoy. He'd like to visit them together sometime. He wants to experience anything Louis is willing to show him. Harry chooses not to voice these thoughts with fear that he would sound overeager. He asks about Louis' work instead.

Louis explains that he is in charge of finalizing specifics of an upcoming exhibition. The last year has been leading up to this and he doesn't know what he's going to do when it is finally over. He usually isn't as hands on as he has been for this project, but he thinks it will be worth it. Every detail has been triple checked to ensure that nothing too damaging could go wrong. He gives an impassioned account of his vision.

His words are meticulous as if each bit of information is revolutionary. Animated hand movements accentuate what he feels is most important. His eyes are alight with a passion Harry hasn't seen from him in a long time. Harry is enthralled. It makes him want to see it all for himself. He doesn't know how he ever doubted that Louis felt anything other than love for his job. Harry hopes the person he works for can see how truly incredible the boy is. He should be given the world on a silver platter.

Louis is silent for longer than a normal pause. His joy becomes muted. The burning of his eyes has become a small candlelight. His only movement is the rubbing of a finger on the table.

"Lou?" he questions.

"'m just a little worried. It's the most personal thing I have ever worked on and I dunno if I'm ready for it all to be out there. I wanted to do this for myself, to tell my story." Louis continues to draw a small pattern on the table. "I also care a little too much about what people might think. Not everyone only like a few people. Important people. Opening up is scary, yeah?" He rambles at the end.

The last part settles heavily on Harry's chest. He knows a thing or two about being scared of being vulnerable. For Louis, however, it was uncommon for him to carry that weight with him. Louis was an open book and Harry was always envious. He wore his heart on his sleeve and it was plain to see if you knew where to look. Harry spent most of his life cataloguing the expressions of his best friend. The scrunch of his nose before the downpour of tears. The arch of an eyebrow when he was annoyed. The turn of his lips when he was happy. His face said everything you needed to know without the use of words.

Harry can see the hidden concern in Louis' expression. Harry wants to ease his mind with the truth of his words. He has nothing to worry over. The enthusiasm he has shown for his work is something that would guarantee his success. Anyone close to him would be an idiot to make Louis feel small for opening up about his life. The whole event sounds extraordinary. Louis has a keen eye for detail with impeccable taste. He has all the faith in the world for him.

Harry reaches across the table to still Louis' hand. "You have worked so hard on this. Everyone you love, and everyone that matters, will be nothing but happy for what you have accomplished. You have _so_ much to be proud of already."

Louis tries to hide a smile with the back of his hand, but Harry can see it in the way lines gather around his eyes. Harry's heart is working overtime to keep up with his emotions. He can't take his eyes off the person across from him. A smattering of pink outlines the small freckles on his nose. Louis clears his throat to tame his grin. "Glad you're here," he says

"Missed this."

He kind of hopes Louis takes it to mean what he is really thinking. What he wishes he could say. He missed sitting in this little booth sharing unrestrained thoughts with the beautiful boy across from him. He missed their time together. The charming smile. The flirting. The hand holding.

Harry has been absentmindedly running his thumb across the back of Louis' hand the whole time. He gives it a tight squeeze before pulling back. He runs his hand through his hair instead.

Small remarks move between them as they finish their meal. It still surprises him that Louis never fails to keep him entertained. Sometimes he would let out a honking laugh that would make him color in embarrassment. Louis grinned delightedly every time. He was happy to know things were as easy in person as it has been over the phone. They have spent hours texting through their reality TV binges, complaining about people in public, and discussing songs on the radio.  It was better than either could have hoped.

In all that time they never mentioned anything too personal or too serious. It suddenly hits Harry that he is sitting in front of a virtual stranger. Their history is only a small part of who he has become. They haven't spoken much about the years that separated them. They spent so long avoiding the big topics that they've missed everything in between. Neither has tried to broach subjects that held any sort of meaning to them. He wants to change that.

He wants to know anything the boy is willing to share. He has picked up small bits of information from other people, but nothing compares to hearing them from the man himself. Does he still want to experience the world? Does he still believe in fate? _Is he happy?_ They are going to have to relearn the most important parts of each other if there is any hope for this to work. The feelings he is so hung up on might be for the boy he used to love and not the one sitting with him now.

"So, what made you decide on the career you have now? Last I heard you were still undecided," Harry says when they reach a break in topic.

"Kind of fell into it really." He shrugs. "I always loved photography and it fit the creative course requirement I needed. My professor knew someone who knew someone that introduced me to the right people. They saw something, I guess?" The last sentence comes out as a question like he fears boasting of his own talent. "Balanced work with classes until I finished. Two and a half years later and I get to showcase fine-art photography to more people than I ever imagined. I got really lucky because I can provide for Iz and do something I'm passionate about," Louis finishes

"That's incredible," admiration clear in Harry's voice, "It must be fun to work with your friends. How did you get them to join you?"

"Well, Liam wanted to leave school because he wasn't having the best time there. I knew he would do well managing the day to day tasks around the shop -and I selfishly thought it would be easier to have him with me- so I offered him a job as a backup plan if he decided that school wasn't his thing. It got a bit overwhelming when things started to grow so Niall stepped in to help Liam from time to time. He picked up some marketing classes on the side and completed his degree not long after. I tried to get him to join us full time, but he's more of a free spirit than any of us hope to be. I think he really enjoys being picky with his freelance work.

"Nothing compares to having them by my side," Louis finishes, shaking his head in amazement, "Have you thought about what you want to do?"

Harry gives a grimace in response to the question. He has six months left before he is thrust back in the real world without a vague idea of what he wants to do. A few weeks ago he spontaneously decided to sublet his apartment so he could come back to town. He loves the city, but it would be nice for his life to slow down again. He still doesn't have a career path in mind. A business degree was an obvious choice because it gave him the opportunity to keep his options open. He was thinking of finding a small start up that would let him do a bit of everything. He refuses to have to a monotonous life.

He tells Louis this, but what is really on his mind is left unsaid. He thinks back to the nights he would crawl into his bed with a numbness in his soul. His friends had interests that kept them moving forward. They would talk about everything they wanted out of life while he listened without giving input. He felt an immense amount of pressure to find something to work towards. Something was always gnawing at him, telling him he was almost out of time. He felt like there was a small window that he had to jump through before it closed forever. He had to know where to live, what to do, and who to be before there were no options left. He was incredibly happy for his friends' goals, but an irrational part of him feels empty for not having that.

Harry thinks his thoughts might be spelled out on his face. Louis looks at him for a long drawn out moment. He must have an internal debate over what he wants to say because a few emotions play out on his face. It eventually clears of everything, only to be left with narrowed eyes and a concerned pout.

"I know you. I can see your worries. You are so intelligent and dedicated to doing well that you will be perfect for anything you choose. You'll find it in your own time. There's no rush to figure it all out now." His voice is sincere when he speaks.

"Thanks, Lou."

"I mean it. There's no deadline on our lives. Needing to make a living and having our lives figured out are not mutually exclusive," Louis says.

"Maybe we should get you your own talk show," Harry says with a quirk of an eyebrow. "You've got the whole overly friendly vaguely funny thing going on"

Louis shoots him a faux upset look complete with rounded eyes and open mouth. He has trouble keeping it in place because his expression fills with mirth. He feels a light kick to his shin before Harry has a chance to think about what it could mean. He tries to sneakily retaliate, but soon finds that he is not as discrete as he wishes he could be. His ankle is caught between two other ones. Harry is slightly dumbfounded by Louis' reflexes.

"Surprised by something, Rose?" The blue eyed boy raises an eyebrow and drops his chin to stare into Harry's eyes.

"Of course. Wasn't sure your old man reflexes were able to move so quickly," Harry says.

Louis laughs but otherwise remains unaffected by the exchange.

The endearment must have slipped before Louis realized what was happening. Harry hasn't heard the sweet word out of Louis' mouth in far too long. It still sends a flurry of butterflies in his abdomen. It began the summer after he turned ten years old. His mother had just shown them how to harvest flowers without damaging them. He was so excited to be able to help her for the first time. He wanted Louis to do it with him.  In the end his mother let them each choose a flower to keep. Harry had immediately gone to the Dahlia while Louis had stayed close to the roses.

Harry was drawn to the bright pink color, large size, and perfect petals. They never looked real to him. He used to think there was no way something could be made so perfectly. He was almost scared of getting too close because he was certain he would ruin it. Harry thought Louis was choosing the first thing that came to mind when he picked a small red rose close to him.

Harry had asked him why he didn't choose something that had been in full bloom. The boy shrugged his shoulders as he carefully clipped the flower from the bush. It was placed in a water bucket to get the long thorns removed from the stem. Louis held it up once it was in his hand again. He moved a finger across the soft petals, telling Harry that he liked that one best. He murmured a _C'mon, Rose_. Harry stayed standing in confusion until Louis looked back to ask if he was coming. It was then that Harry realized that Louis had been talking to him and not the flower in his hands.

Louis used the nickname from that moment on. The first time was nothing special, but the importance continued to grow with his feelings. It was something reserved for the two of them, muttered under Louis' breath in public or saved for when they were alone. He had saved notes and birthday cards with the letters written in a messy scrawl. One word felt a lot like an unspoken I love you.

Louis never failed to show up with a single red rose to Harry's big events. A flower was left for him the morning of his first day of high school, and every prom they attended together. It was a silent use of Harry's favorite acknowledgement. He remembers being greeted with one on his window sill the morning of Harry's high school graduation. He held it against his chest for a long time. Tears dripped down his face when he placed it in the back of his journal. It was the last rose he had ever received from Louis.

"Louis, it's getting late," a voice calls out.

The sound draws Harry out of his thoughts. He looks up to find Candice walking up to their table. Harry notices that the afternoon rush has gone. The room has cleared of most patrons. A few stragglers sit at the tables with their drinks. The line has lessened to a couple of people. The girl now stands in front of their table waiting for Louis' attention. Harry looks at the boy to see that he is already looking back at him. Harry moves his head in the blonde's direction. Louis unhurriedly drags his eyes to meet her.

She speaks again when they finally land on her, "Liam asked me to remind you about your last meeting." She walks away as soon as she is finished speaking.

"Thank you," Louis says to her back, checking his watch.

She waves him off without turning around. Louis looks back at Harry with a downturn of his lips.

"I'll let you -"

"I could move -" They start at the same time.

Harry gives a sheepish giggle while Louis offers an amused shake of his head. Louis makes a hand movement encouraging him to speak first.

"I'll let you get back to your work. I had a lovely afternoon," Harry says. He would continue to stay with Louis if he had the opportunity. He looks more relaxed than he has been the last few times they have seen each other. He is leaning back in his chair with an arm resting casually on the table. His eyes reduced to slits, face impossibly fond. They have had easy conversations. Harry feels like he is finally beginning to relearn the boy he has yearned for far too long.

Harry reluctantly disentangles their legs. He gathers his things from the seat of the booth. Louis stands to give him a hug. They pull away slowly. Louis drags his arms down until they rest at Harry's forearms. He's not sure if Louis is trying to push him away or pull him closer. Harry really hopes it's the latter. He wants to spend forever with Louis' arms around him.

"So... Izzy is supposed to stay with a friend this weekend." Harry raises his eyebrows inquisitively. "The boys are coming over for a movie night on Saturday and I was wondering if you want to join us?"

-

The door swings open to reveal kind brown eyes. The sight of the boy makes him feel incredibly overdressed. Harry chose his most comfortable pair of jeans and an oversized shirt. He wanted to look good while lounging around for hours. In comparison, Liam is in sweatpants that hang lower than should be appropriate with a tank that hardly covers anything. He looks exactly like everything Harry would never be. His arms are bulging when he reaches in for a friendly side hug. Effortlessly cool when he moves aside to let him cross the threshold. Harry can't help comparing himself to the other man. It doesn't go well.

"Nice to see you again, Harry. Lou just ran out to drop off Izzy. He should be back in a sec and Niall said he's on his way," Liam says.

They walk together to the kitchen to drop off the six pack Harry brought with him. An assortment of food is on the kitchen island along with various drinks. Liam must notice him eyeing the display because he offers an explanation, "We always go a little overboard with snacks. One movie always turns into more and we learned after the first time that it's best not to run out of food."

"We?" Harry asks in confusion. Liam easily walked around the place even without Louis being home with him. Liam welcomed him in as if he owned the place. They must be awfully domestic. Harry had assumed that Louis and Izzy were the only occupants of the house, but he was clearly wrong. Harry wonders how long they have been together. Was it before or after he left? Harry would like to think he would have known if there was something going on between them when he was still in the picture. "Do you have people over a lot? Looks like you've had some practice."

"Guess you could say that." Liam gives a hearty laugh.

They walk to the sitting room together. Liam takes a seat beside Bowie on the sofa in front of the television. The little orange furball climbs on to his lap as soon as she notices someone joined her on the sofa. Harry moves to sit alone on the loveseat - deciding that it would be best - because he refuses to sit next to the two lovebirds when the other piece of the pair arrives.

"Niall, Louis, and I used to switch off nights, but Lou likes to stay close to home when his sister is out with friends. It became easier to do nights here with one of us footing the bill each time. This is the first night in a while though. Work has been wild."

"Oh, I heard. Glad you have found time to relax. Louis was telling me about the project you're doing. It sounds wonderful," Harry says

"He told you about it?" Liam's eyes widen and his jaw has gone slack in surprise. Harry feels slightly offended of Liam thinking Louis wouldn't tell him about something so important to him. They were friends long before the other boy came into the picture. They may not be close to where they were, but they were working on it. Liam must detect something in his silence because he is quick to placate him. "He has kept it pretty close to his chest. I think less than half a dozen people have seen the pieces in total. The secrecy has honestly been killing me."

"Oh, no," Harry says awkwardly. He rubs the back of his neck with his hand. "I, um, didn't actually see them. He just told me a bit about what he was working on when we met for lunch."

"Oh," Liam draws out. He obviously diverts the conversation after that.

They continue to make polite small talk while waiting for the other boys. He finds that Liam is nice enough to talk to. He tells stories of past movie nights and the one that started them all. The tradition started as a way of introducing Louis' two closest friends. Louis thought it would be a good idea to have a low key night in the dorm he shared with Liam. He was so nervous because he was certain the boys would hate each other. He was surprised when the two bonded the second Niall walked through the door. It was rare for the three of them to spend too much time apart after that first night.

He and Liam swap stories involving their friends and their favorite things. He tells Liam about the time he and Louis snuck in to the movie theater to watch The Last Song because they were too embarrassed to buy the tickets themselves. Louis had been obsessed with Liam Hemsworth for weeks. He went on and on about the actor for longer than he'd ever willingly admit.

The one thing he keeps to himself is how Louis stopped talking about the movie when Harry asked him to finally let it go. They had been laying in bed talking when Louis had brought it up once again. He had grumpily rolled away from the piercing blue eyes. Louis had rubbed his hand down his left arm as he asked what he said wrong. Harry tried to shrug his shoulders as best he could with only one shoulder mobile. Louis had taken him at his word, hugged him from behind, and nuzzled his nose in the small spot behind his ear that never failed to make him smile. Louis never brought the subject  up again.

The sound of the front door handle jiggling causes his chat with Liam to stop abruptly. Two faint voices talking over one another carries into the room. They listen to the two boy's chatter from their spot on the sofa. He can feel a grin creeping in when he hears Louis' bubbly laugh.

"Liam, love," Louis shouts, "I picked up a stray on my way back. Has Harry popped in yet?"

Liam calls out to the boys to let them know where they are in the house. Soon enough two blobs of brunette hair peek around the corner of the entryway.

Niall gives a hello to the boy on the larger sofa, but pointedly ignores Harry on his way to the kitchen. Louis makes a face at his friend's back until he's out of sight. He squeezes Liam's shoulder when passing him to sit beside Harry on the loveseat.

"Don't mind him. We're working on it," Louis whispers, bumping his shoulder into Harry's. "I stopped for pizza on the way over. It's in the kitchen," he says to the room. Bowie must have finally noticed her owner's return because her head perks up as Louis is speaking. She darts across the room quickly to situate herself on the back of the loveseat between the two men.

Liam immediately gets up when the feline leaves him. Louis, however, relaxes more into his seat. They can hear the others bustling around the kitchen. The rustling of bags, clinking of bottles, and sounds from the refrigerator make their way over to the main room. Indecipherable words can be heard over the other noise. Harry should get up or at least offer to help, but the bright blue eyes have him pinned to his seat. He likes having the attention on him alone.

"Might have told Liam about your teenage crush on the other Liam. He was downright delighted, I think," Harry says quietly as to not disturb the moment. Louis groans. His face is covered with his hands. Something is mumbled between them that Harry can't quite catch. He decides to remove a hand for him, holding one wrist. "Do you want to try that again?" He asks, pressing one thumb on the boy's pulse point.

"I said I hate you. I tried hard to forget the awkward years," Louis continues to speak quietly. He likes that they're able to stay in their own bubble for a little while longer. "More of a fan of Thor if I'm honest."

Harry hums in acknowledgement. He's not too surprised Louis' tastes have changed. His new friend seems to fit the rugged puppy dog type. Louis continues watching him for a response.

"Not sure anyone can turn down an Avenger. I couldn't help but remind him of your roots though."

Louis hides his expression in the fur of Bowie. Harry thinks he must have drawn out a fond expression if he was trying this hard to hide it.

The unintelligible words from earlier have started to get louder. He forces his eyes away from the boy beside him. Liam and Niall enter the room with their arms full. The former sets down a few plates and pizza boxes on the table. Niall reluctantly stays behind him until he is nudged forward. He easily hands a beer to Louis. After staring at Harry for a long moment, he finally gives him the other bottle with a nervous upturn of his lips. Harry glances at Louis to see him watching with an approving look. Taking that as an encouraging sign, he returns Niall's timid grin with one of his own.

"What've you been talking about in here?" Niall asks to the two boys.

"Which MCU movie we're going to turn on tonight," Louis says breezily, "I'm thinking Phase Two. I've had about all I can take of the first one."

Louis sends him a conspiratorial look as he stands to flick Niall in the ear. The latter huffs in annoyance, but Louis makes it up to him by giving him a quick ruffle of his hair. Louis pops a disc into the player and grabs some things from the table on his way back. He half expects Louis to move to sit beside Liam as they shuffle around. He is secretly happy when his oldest friend takes a seat beside him once more. The boys continue to argue about where they usually prefer to start. Louis wins in the end. Harry will side with him for the rest of his life if he gets rewarded with the satisfied look Louis is currently wearing.

He and Louis whisper comments to each other during the first half of the movie. Harry remembers when they watched the first Iron Man film together. He had been so lost that Louis had to explain it to him. The movie wasn't hard to follow, but it was difficult when there was someone beside him that seemed so much more interesting. Each subsequent film resulted in them passing details that they found most interesting. Izzy hated it so much that she always made them sit as far away from her as they could. It was worth it to hear the giggles Louis released due to his words. Even now, they were spending more time narrating events to each other than watching the film.

They get up between movies to clean up the mess they made from before. Harry is pleasantly surprised when Niall strikes up a conversation with him on the way to the kitchen. He wanted to know every little detail and it made Harry feel like he was answering a friendship quiz to see if they were compatible. Niall appears to think over each answer he gives like it was going to make a difference if they were going to be on good terms again. He is excited to be awarded with a pat on the back in the end.

Progress. They were making progress.

He walks to the sitting room to see that Louis had been watching the chat with a triumphant smile. Harry thinks this may have been his plan all along. The movie night served as an icebreaker. He wanted them to have another chance to talk comfortably. It seemed like Louis was trying the same tactic that had worked with Liam and Niall once before. Harry is thankful for the effort Louis is putting in to help him feel more at ease around his friends. It's more than he could have hoped to have.

"You didn't send your sister away so your best friend would be forced to play nice, did you?" Harry whispers as he takes his seat.

Louis looks at him with a hand over his chest in a play at being surprised by the accusation. His melodramatic act shows that he has been caught.

"How dare you think that I would use my baby sister's sleepover as an excuse to bring you two idiots back together," Louis says in a shocked voice.

Harry throws his arm around the boy to pull him closer. He uses it to show his feelings without having to explain them all. He thinks Louis knows by how he squeezes his thigh with a hand.

Harry notices that someone has put another movie on and brought out comfortable blankets. Louis moves closer to him. The length of their bodies are now aligned with no room between them. He wants to move his arm back over his old friend to bring them even closer together. Harry feels weird about how close he wants to be to the boy.

He manages to meet Niall's eyes and for the first time he doesn't show any type of annoyance. Niall is relaxed where he is sitting with Liam. Liam is laid out on the sofa with his eyes staring blankly on the screen. Niall's legs sprawled over his with a blanket pulled up to his chin.

"The way they wrote Jane makes me want to never watch the first two Thor movies ever again. She had so much potential," Louis says without taking his eyes from the screen.

"Please don't start on this again," Niall begs.

"I want to hear about it," Harry tells Louis. He flips Niall off when he mutters something a lot like 'Here we go again.'

Louis has always had a love for Natalie Portman movies. He doesn't remember Louis ever mentioning anything during the first movie they watched all those years ago. He listens to Louis rant about the script with genuine interest. He continues to point out problems with the plot and places where they could have improved the story. Harry spends more time listening to Louis' rants and scoffs than he does the actual film.

"I think that's enough movie time for me," Niall says at the same time the end credits start rolling. He is out of sight before the mid credit scene even begins. A voice can be heard drifting from the kitchen to the hallway, "Night. Do not disturb me until morning!"

Louis shakes his head fondly. No one else in the room moves until the final scene is over.

"I'm up for another one if you are? You're also more than welcome to stay the night," Louis offers.

He's not so sure that he should. He has really enjoyed himself and wouldn't object to staying a while. Their closeness was something that he never wanted to give up. He and Louis make a plan to get ready for the next part of their marathon. He is in charge of resetting the player this time while Louis takes care of the boy on the sofa.

Liam looks like he has been asleep for most of the previous movie. The boy's head is resting on hand. His mouth is open to let out little puffs of breath. Louis kneels beside him with an extra blanket in his hand. Whatever he says in his quiet tone makes Liam roll over to get more comfortable. Louis takes the covers and situates them over their sleeping friend.

Harry gets a wink when he gets caught watching the exchange. Happiness radiates from him when Louis slyly cuddles up to him. Bodies connected in almost every way. His back pressed to arm of the loveseat and Louis' back to his chest. Their legs pressed closely together, arms entwined, and Louis' head on Harry's shoulder. It feels exactly like it did when they were younger. Most weekends were spent curled together like this until it was too late for either of them to keep their eyes open. Harry thinks it will never be the same for him with anyone else. He never even bothered to try.

"I think I've watched Cap movies more than any others," Harry says.

Louis hums in response, eyes never leaving the screen.

Harry tacks on, "His character reminds me of you."

"Dashingly handsome?" A cocky smirk given alongside the statement. Louis shifts more to the side to look at Harry.

He should just laugh it off. Maybe he shouldn't tell Louis that he thought about this a lot. He would think of him in a thousand different contexts. Plenty of books, movies, and songs brought him back to the boy. He could draw comparisons between him and a hundred different characters. He wasn't lying when he said Louis felt like all he ever thought of. They were never far apart in his mind. He stays with the truth because he wants to show him that he never stopped caring.

"Yeah, though you look nothing alike," Harry says. He meets Louis' eyes. "You have the same determination. An unfailing need to be kind. You do what you believe is right even when it is hard. You have this incredible talent that you're well aware of but never boast about. And..." Harry trails off. "You stand by your friends even when no one else thinks they deserve it."'

"Does this make you Bucky then?" Louis is trying to keep the conversation light, but just misses the mark. His eyes betray him because they show how affected he is.

"Mentally and emotionally unavailable? Constantly in and out of your life?" Harry gives a self deprecating shake of his head.

"No, of course that's not what I think. Complicated doesn't even begin to describe the circumstances. He's strong enough to come back to himself. Two pieces of something much bigger than them," Louis says. Louis uses his pointer finger to trace the line from Harry's temple to chin before speaking again, "Besides, you're here now."

They look at each other for a long time. 

"Yeah, I'm here now," Harry draws out softly as he pulls Louis closer. 

They don't talk much for the rest of the movie. At some point Louis takes hold of his hand. His fingers track the lines across his palm. It makes Harry feel so content. He begins to doze off.

He is awoken a short while later. Louis must have gotten up to turn off the television because the only light in the room comes from the hallway. A figure stands above him. He blinks his eyes while they adjust to the lighting. Louis holds a hand out to him.

"You're going to hurt yourself sleeping like that. I don't mind sharing my room." It takes Harry a minute to put together the words. Louis continues, "Niall probably wouldn't be happy to have you - no offense - and Liam seems to have adopted the couch."

"Would he mind?" Harry asks slowly.

"Sharing? Probably not, but it might be a tight fit. He looks like he's barely on there himself. Your best bet would be staying here," his says confusedly.

"No, I meant me sharing _with you_." Louis looks like he is having difficulty processing the information. His eyebrows have drawn together. He is biting at his lip like he's thinking really hard. "I don't know what your relationship is like... I mean, sometimes people aren't like okay with their partners sleeping so close to others because it's like intimate, I guess? Obviously it's your choice and not his, but I don't want to be like disres-" Louis' laugh cuts off his rambling.

"I feel like I should be upset about this," Louis says as he's catching his breath, "He's my best friend and business partner. What even gave you the idea of something more?"

Harry feels a rush of embarrassment. His cheeks aflame. He throws an arm over his eyes to avoid looking at Louis. Thoughts of the last few weeks flash in his mind. Liam and Louis were both physically and emotionally close. Offhand comments were made about how important they were to each other. Liam had a hand in most of Louis' life. They were so fond when they spoke of one another. He doesn't think it was too far off for him to assume there was something more than friendship. His own jealousy and irrational thoughts may have also played a small part in him thinking there was more than they led on.

"I don't know. He let me in to your house and made it seem like he lived here. You two speak of each other like you've been together for years. I've always seen you interact with Niall, so it was weird to see it with someone else." Harry peeks out from his arm. Louis is still standing above him. He looks so amused by the situation that it helps ease some of his embarrassment.

Louis takes his hand from the arm thrown across his face. He feels a slight tug. Louis waits for him to move from the sofa before leading him from the room. He uses his free hand to turn off the light from the hallway. Louis' room is the last door in the hall. His hand is released as soon as they enter the doorway.

Louis looks at him nervously as he takes in the space. Most of the his bedroom is fairly simple. Matching bedside tables sit on either side of the bed. One holds a single gold dipped red rose in a vase. The other stands with a lamp sitting atop the table.

A single wall is full of artfully displayed photographs. Snapshots of their childhood stare back at him. Not one single photograph shows a person. Remnants of favorite moments and memories line the walls. Harry distinctly remembers Louis taking a picture of a snowy Central Park during their last holiday with Louis' parents. A distant shot of what looks to be their booth in the bakery. More photos of Louis' life that Harry can't quite place.

"I love your photos," Harry says in awe. "What made you choose these?"

"They're important to me, but not personal enough that they hurt to look at. These are the ones that I like to keep close to me."

Harry thinks of the photograph in his room. He was so drawn to it the first time he noticed it. It looks so similar to the ones that hang in front of him. Something makes him want to ask if it was given to him.

"Did you by any chance take the photo that is in my room?" he asks sheepishly.

Louis gives a nearly imperceptible nod of his head.

"It's beautiful. You are really talented."

"Uh, thank you," Louis says bashfully. He clears his throat and points to the en suite. "There are spare toothbrushes in the second drawer. I'll grab some spare clothes for you." Louis gives him a pair of large sweatpants and a new shirt. He leads him to the bathroom. Louis grabs a few things before walking out of the room.

Harry goes about his nightly routine quickly and gets back before Louis does. He moves to his usual side of the bed. His eyes catch on the flower settled on the bedside table. A hesitant finger runs across a smooth flower petal. He wonders why Louis chose to keep it here. The decoration is beautiful, but seems out of place is the simple room around him. A sound of footsteps sliding across the floor cause Harry to swiftly pull back his hand. He looks up to see a figure in the doorway.

Harry takes his place in bed while ignoring Louis' raised eyebrow. Shadows fill the room as the other boy closes the door, turns off the overhead light and makes his way over to the bed. They lay with as much space between them as they can manage. Awkwardness has taken root around the bedroom. Neither seems to know what to do to break the strange tension. No one speaks for a long time.

He wants to bring up all the things they have yet to discuss. A minuscule part of him is scared that talking about it will ruin whatever it is they are trying to create. Harry knows this is where they went wrong the first time. They are trying to piece their lives back together without fixing anything. 

Louis has always been unfailingly kind, but he thinks he would rather have a small piece of cruelty if it helps them move on from the place they're stuck. Their friendship didn't seem fragile until it was fractured into too many pieces to put back together.

"Lou?" Harry asks timidly even though he knows the boy is still awake beside him. He hears a noise in acknowledgement. "Are we ever going to talk about the bright pink elephant in the room?"

Louis is silent for a long time. A heavy weight lands in his stomach as he awaits a reply. Broaching the subjects they need to discuss at this hour might not be the wisest decision. Their defenses are down from the comfortable hours they spent together. He's not sure of what they would even say to one another. He at least wants the chance to explain himself or listen to whatever the the other boy wants to say to him. If Louis makes the decision to reject him after that, Harry will not interfere in his life again.

"I don't want to ignore it. I think the conversation will get more difficult the longer we put it off, but I just..." Louis trails off. Harry waits for him to continue. "I think I wanted to get to know you again, give us time to rebuild some of what was torn down. I thought we might stand a chance if we had something worth keeping when you leave again. If you want to, that is?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that's all I want. _You're_ all I want," Harry lets the sentence hang in the air, "I have so much I want to say to you, to explain. I never thought we would be here, so I never took the time to think about it. I want to hear your side too. Like, I don't want to just fake it and have everything fall apart again."

"We just need time." Louis rolls onto his side. Harry takes that as an invitation to cuddle back into him. They lay with Harry's back to Louis' chest, knees curled together, and hands laced across Harry's stomach. He holds Harry like he always has. The next time he speaks is into the small spot behind his ear lowly, "We're going to be okay again."

His thoughts quiet for the time being. The way they're holding each other close makes Harry believe him.

 

They're going to be okay again.


	7. DON'T SAY GOODBYE, LOVE, SAY GOODNIGHT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I've split the original chapter in to two separate parts and added a bit to the beginning to try to push through this writing block. So if you're reading this, here's an extra bit. The rest should be up soon.

A slight dip in the bed rouses Harry from sleep some time in the night. He grabs at the space behind him only to come up empty. He rubs at his eyes to clear some of the drowsiness away as he surveys the room. Shreds of moonlight brighten the area enough to see the delicate outline of the boy. Louis sits against the headboard writing furiously in the journal resting on his knees. Furrowed brows and a hint of pink tongue between thin lips are the perfect picture of concentration. Harry can't help but watch him work from his position on the mattress.

Louis must feel the heat of his gaze because the writing stops just before he turns his head to meet Harry's eyes.

"Didn't mean to wake you," Louis whispers.

"'s okay," Harry slurs a reply, "How long 've you been up?"

No traces of tiredness line the boys face and Harry assumes he must have been awake for a while. He grabs blindly at the bedside table until his fingertips grasp what he was looking for. The small white letters on his phone reveal that it is slightly after three in the morning, far too early for whatever it is that Louis is doing.

"Not long," his answer too delayed to appear honest.

Harry squints at him to see if he would change his answer to the truth. When he doesn't, Harry moves to the second question on his mind.

"What are you working on at this time of night?"

Harry moves to sit up when Louis doesn't reply right away. He lightly knocks his elbow against the other boy's to draw attention to him. Louis tilts the small notebook in Harry's direction. It's enough to see the small boxes drawn across the paper with each holding sketches and notes written in the margins. There is so much writing that most of it is difficult to understand and Harry wonders what is written between the lines.

"Couldn't sleep with so much going on in my head. Sometimes it helps if I take my mind off of things by drawing up some ideas. I like to sketch what I would like to see and try to recreate it in my photographs. It sounds stupid out loud, I guess, since most of it never leaves this," He lifts the black book in his hands with a self deprecating purse of his lips.

"Not stupid. It makes sense like some people write stories or talk about their day to clear their mind. You're just more visual than others. I-," Harry clears his throat, "Someone once told me that the best thing you can do for yourself is to release some of the tension, good or bad, by making it a tangible thing. It is supposed to make it easier to process."

"And do you?" Harry's questioning eyes make Louis clarify himself, "Release the tension."

Louis winces the second the words are out of his mouth. He shakes his head, eyes facing the ceiling. Harry throws his head back to let out a long honking laugh at both the words and the expression of the other man.

"I do, actually," Harry jokes, dissolving into a fit of giggles.

"Oh my- You perv!" Louis pushes at his shoulder as a small chuckle finds its way through his lips.

"No, I'm trying to be serious," he says while attempting to compose himself, "I have a very pretty journal sitting somewhere in my room that I rarely go anywhere without. A friend gave it to me a few years ago and I don't think he realized how much it means to me. It's helped me through some pretty rough nights."

He was not a day over seventeen when Louis handed him a disastrously wrapped gift with a gleam in his eye. He ripped open the paper piece by piece to savor Louis' expression. He couldn't tell who was more excited by the time the gift was revealed, a copper colored journal with his name stylized on the front cover in Louis' loopy cursive. He loved it the moment he saw it. He immediately threw his arms around the boy to show him how much the gift meant to him. Harry still loves the book so much that he adds new pages as soon as he realizes he is running low.

"Think it might be time I try for an upgrade. Is it nicer than the plain one I use?" Louis asks, examining the black book in his hands.

Harry wants to start a whole new fit of giggles when he realizes that Louis doesn't know what he is referencing. Sometimes Louis' obliviousness can be as adorable as it is frustrating.

"I think so. It's a bit worn now, but you can make out most of the details like the boat drawn in the center." Louis' head perks up at the mention of one of his drawings. Until the last time he saw the book, Louis would add a new scribble every time it was left unattended for too long. Doodles cover the outside of the faux leather journal compiled from years of use. Stars, quotes, and a hundred other drawings can all be attributed to the person beside him. "Some of my favorite song lyrics are written across the spine. I think it serves as inspiration when my head is spinning."

The soft turn of Louis' lips and happy tilt to his eyes hasn't been aimed at him in a very long time. Harry never wants to look away. He knows he is returning the look with matching fondness. He soon realizes they have been staring at each other for longer than what is usually considered appropriate. He has a brief internal debate over what to say next.

He absentmindedly brushes over the sensitive part of his upper arm. The movement reminds him of something he could say that would show the boy how much he has always meant to him. The early hour and weakened defenses make Harry want to say all of the things he was too embarrassed to tell him before. 

In a moment of weakness he thought it would be a good idea to get important moments of his life permanently marked on his skin. One day large windows with ornate drawings called his name and he had to listen. The instant he walked through the doors he knew he had made the right decision. Past designs were displayed like artwork on the walls with each looking as beautiful as the last. The man behind the counter said their shop specialized in custom tattoos and only one thing came to mind.

The first time Louis got a hold of his journal Harry was afraid that he would see the messy scrawl detailing his affections for the blue eyed boy. He was surprised to find a beautifully detailed ship resting just below his name. He had fallen in love with it the moment he saw it. The quickly drawn lines show a rustic wooden boat with large sails on tall masts and two flags flowing in the wind, the whole picture reminding him of freedom.

"I wasn't lying when I said you were all I ever thought about," Harry confesses as he slowly lifts the shirtsleeve on the side closest to Louis.

The black ink stands in stark contrast to the milky white skin surrounding it. There was no mistaking what it is. It feels like time drags on as he awaits Louis' response. The moment he realizes what he is looking at is almost comical. His eyes widen dramatically and his mouth falls open to create a near perfect o shape. The boy fish mouths as he struggles to form words.

"Is that really..." Louis trails off. His hand reaches out to touch the skin his eyes have never left.

"Yeah," Harry breaths, giving permission and answering the question.

Louis' fingers tentatively brush across the skin. Harry watches Louis trace the outline of the tattoo with rapt attention. His breath halts when Louis' hand trails down to the dip in his elbow, pointer finger catching on the shaded petals that rest there. A symbol of his childhood, and favorite endearment, was one of his favorite pieces. Bubbles of happiness fill him every time he's asked about the rose inked on his arm. He shows it off every chance he gets and is surprised that this is the first time Louis has seen it.

"I was homesick," Harry offers as an explanation.

"You're going to regret showing me this in the morning, y'know?" Louis says, finally meeting his eyes.

"Wouldn't have gotten it if I didn't want to tell the world," he replies honestly.

They drop the topic after that. Instead, they talk about everything and nothing at all, careful to avoid anymore discussions of tattoos or anything concerning their personal lives. The night passes them by without either ever noticing. It reminds him of the hundreds of times they've done this before, speaking in the dead of night as if they're the only two things that matter.

Soon enough he is offering more yawns than words. His eyes blink at Louis because they feel too heavy to hold open. Louis cuts off the story he is telling when he sees that Harry is struggling to stay awake.

"Let's get you to bed, yeah?"

He offers a drowsy smile in response.

Louis moves to settle back into the spot behind him and places his arms around him once more. Harry welcomes the content feeling of being back in the boy's embrace. The late night conversation brought back more memories of their life together. For the first time in a long time he thought about his home and his first love without feeling an overwhelming amount of sadness.

-

Harry finds himself alone the next morning. The pillow beside him is still warm. The pushed back blankets serve as another reminder that a physical presence was once there. It's similar to the last summer he spent in this town, falling asleep together and waking up alone. This time will be different, he thinks. A beautiful boy is waiting for him just outside the door. The silence of the house leads him to believe they are the only ones awake at this hour.

Harry wants to ask if they can spend the morning on the deck waiting for the others. Maybe they can make breakfast side by side, watch another film, or take a walk around town. Dreams of a nice morning with childhood friends spin around his head. He rushes around the room with an imagination full of what it could become.

An undetermined amount of time is spent checking his reflection in the mirror. He fluffs his hair to tame it as best he can. The sweats from the night before sit low on his hips with the ends rolled up to mask their size. Louis' shirt pulls tightly over his chest making the university logo stretch. He thinks he looks good in a haphazard kind of way. Eventually, he decides he is ready to face the morning's possibilities.

The sitting room and kitchen are empty when he wanders through them. Joyfully, he assumes the others must have already made their way outside. Stillness accompanies him down the path to Louis' - and his - favorite part of the house. The pergola's sheer white fabric is tied together loosely. He leisurely draws back the material to reveal a single occupant. The tapping in his chest moves faster.

Louis is sitting on the small patio sofa. The profile view displays a mug in one hand with his arms curled close to his chest around his knees. Harry thinks he looks especially delicate in that position. He aches to be closer. He meticulously ties the fabric together again. The filtered light now showcases the twinkling lights around them. He looks around in wonder as he reaches Louis.

His heart skips a beat in the worst way. Louis' eyes are dull as they stare into the distance, face void of emotion. The effervescent exterior has evaporated. His body looks drained like he hasn't gotten a minute of sleep after their morning talk. Compared this morning Harry hardly recognizes the person sitting there. He hasn't seen him like this since they were children.

"Lou?" Harry speaks faintly.

The boy looks up at him with a brittle smile. Watching him uncurl himself makes Harry want to let out a sigh of relief. It feels as though he was opening up to him alone.

He seems less guarded when he takes Harry's hand to offer the spot next to him. His head juts forward to signal that Harry can rest in his lap. He moves hesitantly like he may break the boy if he is not careful. His head lays on Louis' left thigh and the tip of his nose presses against his tummy. Louis positions his left arm across Harry's abdomen with the right hand twirling in his curls. It's familiar and intimate.

It's everything he wanted just a few days ago. The cuddling, the enclosure, and the lights dancing off their skin is like living in a dream. They're shielded from the outside world, but he's aware of the problems that lie within. Harry is curious to know if something happened with his family or the boys. This morning has been a complete turn from the previous night. They were deliriously happy just a few hours prior.

"How are you feeling?"

"Had a hard time sleeping. Feeling a little stressed," Louis answers tonelessly. It's obvious that it's true, but he will never say it. Shadows fall under his lashes, redness surround the irises, and his usual luminescence has dwindled. Harry thinks the boy still looks stunning. He wouldn't trade being here for anything.

"Would you like me to take you back to bed? You can take a nice relaxing bath while I turn down the temperature so you can wear your favorite sweater in bed. I'll rub your back and talk until you fall asleep."

Louis shakes his head.

"Or I could go?" Harry questions dubiously.

He shakes his head again.

"Just let me hold you for a while," Louis says, voice weary, "We can talk about it later."

If it had been anyone else he would have been confused by the mixed messages, but Louis always says what he means. He only puts off conversations when he wants some time to clear his mind. It's a habit that Harry is thankful to have picked up because it has stopped him from saying things he doesn't mean a thousand times over. It does, however, make him feel wary of what could be on the boy's mind. He tries not to dwell on it.

He has never found anything more comforting than being in his best friend's arms. It was the cure for when things went wrong, a celebration of their achievements, and the best way to end the day. In any other context it would have made his stomach flip in happiness, but this time made it turn in anxiety.

The room remains silent until he cannot stand it any longer.

"Will you tell me about your photographs?" Harry asks in an attempt to draw Louis out of his head.

Louis' fingers twirl in his curls. He tugs on one until Harry has turned his head to meet Louis' eyes. Their full attention is settled on each other.

"What would you like to know?"

"Whatever you're willing to share with me," he says with earnestness in his voice.

It's quiet for a time. His head moves side to side as though he is physically weighing his options. It's obvious he is trying to choose his words carefully. The expression on his face indicates that he is deciding on what to share rather than where to begin. Harry doesn't want Louis to have to be careful with him. He wants to hear it all.

"I've always loved taking pictures of my surroundings. I like to remember what life is like outside of the memories that stand out in my mind. It helps me see the world more clearly. My photos were - and still are for the most part - private. I have never shown the ones most important to me because I've never wanted them to be in a place where people I don't even know could see them."

The emotions attached to his photographs were obvious to anyone that knew him. Louis' last holiday with his parents is immortalized in his room. The picture sitting in Harry's home is of something personal to them. He can understand why he would be hesitant to show them.

"I was so self conscious," Louis continues, "I didn't think I was good enough to live up to what some people saw in me. Nia, the owner of the first gallery I worked with, helped me realize how important it was to show vulnerability. Everything I do comes from what I'm feeling and I had to learn that what I had to say was worth expressing, both with and without the lens. I want people to find what they're looking for when they see my photographs, but I don't have to let critics tear me down. I am proud of what I produce. Nia did so much in reminding me of that."

Louis' more than the boy that Harry once held on a pedestal. It took a lot for him to get to where he is and he seems to have had plenty of help along the way. He knows what it's like to doubt yourself, to be afraid to show people what he really thinks and feels. It's a side of him that Harry managed to always conveniently forget. Knowing that Louis is as flawed as anyone comforts Harry in some weird way. It makes him feel closer to the boy than he has in a long time.

"I'm glad you had someone in your corner to help you. How did you meet?"

"I met her son through a professor of mine. He liked what he saw and what I had to say, so he bought a few pieces to take to her. She hired me to follow her around like a personal assistant. It kind of helped me learn the small things like interacting with curators and making contacts. She would start each morning by asking me why I started taking photography seriously. It seemed strange at first so I kind of gave the same basic answers as everyone else. Once I was honest about it, it was more of a rhetorical question to always remind me where I began, _why_ I began."

It appears that the conversation has done a lot to make the boy keep his mind off of whatever is bothering him. He still shows signs of fatigue, but does a better job of concealing it. He sounds lighter than before, voice filled with nostalgia.

He likes that Louis is opening up about his life. It's different than the way it was last night and he wants to know more. Even the little things have made a big difference in how connected he feels to him.

"What's your why?" Harry asks timidly, worried that the question might have been too personal.

"I had a difficult go of it for a while," Louis releases a heavy sigh between sentences, "I couldn't trust my own head. My heart told me one thing, but my mind had a different story. I needed this physical thing to remind me of what was real. I think it's really easy for new feelings or experiences to taint memories. I didn't want to forget something that once made me happy because my head was telling me that I shouldn't care about it anymore. I picked up a camera to remember to trust myself, trust what I feel."

Louis has started running a thumb back and forth on his waist. It's so distracting that Harry nearly misses when Louis returns the question.

"I'm not sure," he enunciates each word slowly.

The question has haunted him for years, constantly hovering over his shoulder waiting for the right time to bring him down. It was a shadow that felt more like a reflection. He thought he couldn't be a full person without some sort of motivation for his life. Now isn't the time to discuss this because he is likely to break down the longer they linger on the subject.

"And that bothers you," Louis concludes.

Harry gives a pained expression as the words leave his mouth. Louis always did have a habit of reading him in the most inopportune of times.

"I prefer not to think about it," Harry adds so quickly that he is nearly tripping over the last part of Louis' sentence.

"Tell me something then." Louis tilts his head with a caring look in his eyes. A false sense of comfort fills his senses. It makes him want to spill all his secrets without bracing for the fallout. Harry will always blame that look for the words that spill out of his mouth.

"I have your sweatshirt. The one with the -" Harry stops speaking to run his pointer finger across the right side of his chest where the varsity letters would spell out 'Tomlinson.' The other boy glances to the spot Harry is referencing. Recognition dawns on his face. His mouth drops open slightly before he moves his eyes to meet Harry's. "It looked so good on you. You would wear this cocky smirk and it made people even more obsessed with you."

"They were not," Louis says like it's the most ridiculous thing he has ever heard.

Harry gives him a look to quiet him.

"I loved that it was so important to you. You wore it so much that it was so soft and still smelled like you. I liked knowing that it was yours and, I guess in a weird way, it made me feel as though I was still a part of you. I needed that more than I ever wanted to admit. Sometimes I would get so homesick that I couldn't even breathe. It was important to me to have something that reminded me of you."

"Why didn't you want me?" Louis says so softly that he nearly misses it.

"Lou, no," Harry pushes out in equal softness, "That's not- No. I did want you. I _do_ want you. There's so much more to it than that."

"I'm sorry for making it about me, 's just that it still stings."

"It is about you," he says, resigned.

He is frustrated with himself for not being able to put it into words. He thought he was going to have more time. He has yet to process the last few weeks let alone the last few years. There was no way he was ready to put it all together for someone else. There are a hundred things that he needs to say, but he chooses to stay quiet.

Louis doesn't respond to his statement. Harry sits up to put some space between them. He takes one of Louis' hands in both of his. He runs his thumb along the skin just below the knuckles to keep them connected.

He is aware of the thick air surrounding them. Neither of them speak again until the sun hangs bright enough that the lights no longer make a difference in their sanctuary.

"I think we need time apart," Louis lets the words fall slowly.

Harry was nearly in a panic. Something should have told him that he had a hand in Louis' change of mood this morning, but he was too blinded by last night to see it. Louis said they were going to be okay. He said they were going to try to rebuild. He drops Louis' hand as though it burns. It _had_ burned. Harry had lulled himself into a false sense of security and the reminder that they weren't safe hurt.

No noise flows in the room for a short time. Harry wonders if he is expected to say something.

"We shouldn't be like we were." Last night or before? Harry wants to ask, but nothing comes out. "I'm so _so_ _angry_ with you. You left me like - like I was nothing to you. You had every right to go, but I didn't have to be here when you got back."

Harry stares in horror as the words leave Louis' mouth. The alluring pink lips have just dripped acid in the air. He no longer enjoys watching them move. Expression has come back to the blue eyes. They reflect sadness and Harry isn't sure if it's Louis' or his own. It pains Harry to see it.

"I never expected you to," Harry says, voice hollow. He is now the one curled in on himself. He feels so small. 

"I know, but... I feel like there is this ever present need to be closer to you. I want to be who we were. I want to hold you. I want to tell you all my secrets and fears. I can't tell if we're okay because you're here or -  Like how would we have reacted if it was a phone call and not spending two nights in bed together? We can't keep doing this, y'know? We can't just pick up where we left off."

Harry can feel water clouding his vision. He pulls his eyes up from his lap to see Louis. He looks muddled because Harry can hardly see through his tears. The boy's posture is guarded again. His legs are positioned similar to the number four with one bent under the other. His shoulders are pulled back as he looks directly into his eyes. Harry knows him well enough to see that it is all an act. He is forcing himself to look more confident than he feels. He doesn't want to say this any more than Harry wants to hear it.

"This isn't me pushing you away, not permanently at least. If you're here I'm always going to want to look out for you - _be with you_ \- but I can't play second in my own head. You were my best friend and I love you with everything in me, but my life can't be given up for you. And I know you're not asking me to and that you never would, but my mind is going to tell me that I should put aside all of my anger and mistrust to make us be okay again," Louis fixes his fringe when he finishes speaking. Another nervous habit Harry knows well.

He shakes his head rapidly in disbelief. His mouth opens and closes a couple of times, but he is unable to form words adequate enough to stop this from happening.

"I think -" Louis cuts himself off. He might be choked up. "I think I need time to think before we let that happen. I'm just saying I need a couple of days to figure things out and maybe take things slow next time? I meant every word I said last night. I want to get to know you. I still care for the most important parts of you; that's all that matters to me. I want to be alright again so badly that it makes me want to look past every piece of hurt, everyone's thoughts, and everything in me saying that you're not good for me. From what you said when we got back from the bar, I think you know the feeling."

"I listened to that little voice in my head, but that doesn't mean I ever wanted to leave you," Harry rushes out.

If Louis never listens to anything else he says, he wants him to understand this. He ran away because he thought there was no other option for him. Nothing would ever change as long as they were together. He lost who he was when Louis was by his side. Something in him described what Louis said in great detail every day. The only time they were quiet was when Louis was with him. He needed that voice to remind him that he had to find his place in the world.

"But you did, Harry," Louis' voice cuts deeper than he means to if the way he's looking at him is any indication. Pity colors his eyes. Harry doesn't want Louis to feel bad for him because he is only saying what they both know is true. "I'm not trying to punish you and I don't think you have to do penance for something you thought was best. Just because I'm not happy with our situation right now doesn't mean you can't forgive yourself or that I won't be able to move on from this."

"I need time to trust you, to not be angry with you, because I need to know that we can be in each other's lives without being each other's whole life. I thought we were invincible. I thought we were forever and I don't want to be wrong about us," Louis says fiercely.

"We are. We still can be. Don't you think there's a reason why this feels so right after so long?" Harry asks. When it's clear that Louis isn't going to speak, he continues, "I understand where you're coming from, doesn't mean it doesn't hurt, but I do get it. I think you deserve better than me, Louis Tomlinson. I'm not sure I can ever make this right, but I'm going to spend a very long time trying to anyway. If you want me to, that is. We can find a way to work through this, _together_."

With that, Harry gathers his things from inside the house and sees himself out.


End file.
